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A NEW 
AMERICAN 

BIOGRAPHICAL 



OF THE 

OF AMEERICA. 

CONFUTED EXCLUSIVELY TO THOSE WHO HAVE SIGNALIZED THEMSELVES 

IN EITHER CAPACITY, IN THE REt%i]^paNART WAR WHICH 

OBTAINED THE INDEPENDENCE OF tIeIR COITNTRT. 



COMPILED BY THOMAS J. ROGERS. 



Whether we consider the intrinsic gallantry of our revolutionary heroes and states- 
men, the sufferings they endured, or the inestimable value of' the blessings they 
obtained, no nation has prouder examples to appeal to than the American people : 
no nation vi'as ever called on by stronger obligations of gratitude, to honour UieLr 
characters and to consecrate their memories. 



FOURTH EDITION, 

WITH IMPORTANT ALTERATIONS AND ADDITIONS. 



PHILAD ELPHIji : 
PUBLISHED BY SAMUEL F. BRADFORD. 

JESPSR BAROINO, PRINTER. 

1829 



Eastern District of Pennsylvania, to wit: 

«*«••«*««* Be it HEMEMBEKEDjthatonthe fourth day of August, 

* ; in the forty-nuith year of the Independence of the 

* ^' ^- I United States of America, A. D. 1824, T%omas J. 
••***•**** Rogers, of the said District, hath deposited in this office 
the Title of a book, the right whereof he claims as proprietor, in 
the words following", to wit: 

*' A new American Biographical Dictionary; or. Remembrancer 
of the departed Heroes, Sages, and Statesmen, of America. Con- 
fined exclusively to those who have signalized themselves in either 
capacity in the Revolutionary War, which obtained the Indepen- 
dence of their countiy. Compiled by Thomas J. Rogers. 
** Whether we consider the intrinsic gallantry of our revolutionary 
heroes and statesmen, the sufferings they endured, or the inesti- 
mable value of the blessings they obtained, no nation has prouder 
examples to appeal to than the American people: no nation was 
ever called on by stronger obligations of gratitude, to honour 
their characters and to consecrate their memories. 
** Fourth Edition, with important alterations and additions." 

In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, 
entitled, '* An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing 
the copies of maps, charts and books, to the authors and proprietors 
of such copies during the times therein mentioned." And also to 
the act entitled, "An act supplementary to an act, entitled "An 
act for the encouragement of learn- ng, by securing the copies of 
maps, charts, and books, to the authors and proprietors of such 
copies during the times therein mentioned," and extending the 
benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching 
historical and other prints. 

D. CALDWELL, 
Clerk of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania, 



CONTENTS. 



A Declaration by the representatives of the United colonies of 

North America, setting forth the causes and necessity of their 

taking" up arms, 
A Petition of Congress to the king of Great Britain, stating the 

merits of their claims, and soliciting the royal interposition 

for an accommodation of differences on just principles, 
Declaration of American Independence, 
An Address of the Congress to the inhabitants of the United 

States of America, upon the situation of public affairs, 
Manifesto of Congress, Oct. 30, 1778, 
General Orders issued by General Washington, to the army of 

the United States, April 18, 1783, 
Farewell Address of General Washington, to the armies of the 

United States, Nov. 2, 1783, 
General Washington to the President of Congress on resigning 

his commission, Dec. 23, 1783, 
The Answer of General MifRin, the President of Congress, to 

the foregoing speech, 



Tagt 



Adams, Samuel, 


45 


Laurens, Henry, 


Adams, John, 


59 


Lee, Richard Henry, 


Arnold, Benedict, 


65 


Lee, Henry, 


Biddle, Nicholas, 


75 


Lee, Ezra, 


Butler, Zebulon, 


84 


Lincoln, Benjamin, 


Cadwalader, John, 


93 


Marion, Francis, 


Champe, John, 


96 


Mercer, Hugh, 


Clinton, James, 


104 


Meigs, Return Jonathan, 


Chnton, George, 


111 


Mifflin, Thomas, 


Davie, William Richardson, 


114 


M'Kean, Thomas, 


Dickinson, John, 


119 


^Montgomery, Richard, 


Dickinson, Philemon, 


123 


Morgan, Daniel, 


Drayton, William Henry, 


128 


Moultrie, William, 


FrankUn, Benjamin, 


130 


Muhlenberg, Peter, 


Gadsden, Christopher, 


143 


Otis, James, 


Gates, Horatio, 


147 


Prescott, William, 


Gibson, John, 


160 


Putnam, Israel, 


Greene, Nathaniel, 


170 


Ramsey, David, 


Hamilton, Alexander, 


186 


Randolph, Peyton, 


Hancock, John, 


192 


Reed, Joseph, 


Hawley, Joseph, 


202 


Sergeant, Jona. Dickinson, 


Henry, Patrick, 


207 


Sherman, Roger, 


Hopkinson, Francis, 


225 


Stark^ John, 


Howard, John Eager, 


228 


Steuben, Frederick Wm. 


Jefferson, Thomas, 


233 


Sullivan, John, 


Jones, Paul, 


246 


Stevens, Edward, 


Kirkwood, Robert, 


252 


Warren, Joseph, 


Knox, Henry, 


257 


Washington, George, 


Kosciusco, Thaddeus, 


261 


Wayne, Anthony, 



10 
15 

23 
31 

33 

36 

42 

43 
264 
268 
271 
273 
276 
284 
290 
293 
296 
297 
303 
309 
317 
323 
325 
328 
332 
339 
340 
345 
352 
354 
356 
370 
371 
373 
376 
380 
393 



A NEW 
BIOGRAPHICAL. DICTIONARY. 



IN CONGRESS, Phiiadelphia, Jult 6, 1775. 

A DECLARATION 

BT THE REPRESENTATIVES OF THE UNITED COLONIES OF NORTH 
AMERICA, SETTING FORTH THE CAUSES AND NECESSITT OF THEIR 
TAKING UP ARMS. 

Directed to be published by General Washirigton xipon his arrival at 
the camp before Boston. 

If it was possible for men, who exercise their reason, 
to believe that the Divine Author of our existence in- 
tended a part of the human race to hold an absolute 
property in, and an unbounded power over others, marked 
out by his infinite goodness and wisdom, as the objects 
of a legal domination never rightfully resistible, how- 
ever severe and oppressive, the inhabitants of these 
Colonies might at least require from the parliament of 
Great Britain some evidence, that this dreadful authori- 
ty over them has been granted to that body. But a 
reverence for our great Creator, principles of humanity, 
and the dictates of common sense, must convince all 
those who reflect upon the subject, that government was 
instituted to promote the welfare of mankind, and ought 
to be administered for the attainment of that end. The 
legislature of Great Britain, however, stimulated by an 

A 



'2 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY'. 

inordinate passion for a power not only unjustifiable, 
but which they know to be peculiarly reprobated by the 
very constitution of that kingdom, and desperate of 
success in any nnode of contest, where regard should 
be had to truth, law, or right, have at length, deserting 
those, attempted to effect their cruel and impolitic pur- 
pose of enslaving these Colonies by violence, and have 
thereby rendered it necessary for us to close with their 
last appeal from reason to arms. Yet, however blinded 
that assembly may be, by their intemperate rage for 
unlimited domination, so to slight justice and the opi- 
nion of mankind, we esteem ourselves bound by obliga- 
tions of respect to the rest of the world, to make known 
the justice of our cause. 

Our forefathers, inhabitants of the island of Great 
Britain, left their native land, to seek on these shores a 
residence for civil and religious freedom. At the ex- 
pense of their blood, at the hazard of their fortunes, 
without the least charge to the country from which 
they removed, by unceasing labour and an unconquerable 
spirit, they effected settlements in the distant and inhos- 
pitable wilds of America, then filled with numerous and 
warlike nations of barbarians. Societies or govern- 
ments, vested with perfect legislatures, were formed 
under charters from the crown, and a harmonious in- 
tercourse was established between the Colonies and the 
kingdom from which they derived their origin. The 
mutual benefits of this union, became in a short time 
so extraordinary as to excite astonishment. It is uni- 
versally confessed, that the amazing increase of the 
wealth, strength, and navigation of the realm, arose 
from this source; and the minister, who so wisely and 
successfully directed the measures of Great Britain in 



AM[£R1CAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 5 

the late war, publicly declared, that these Colonies 
*enabled her to triumph over her enemies. Towards 
the conclusion of that war, it pleased our sovereign to 
make a change in his counsels. From that fatal moment, 
the affairs of the British empire began to fall into con- 
fusion, and gradually sliding from the summit of glo- 
rious prosperity, to which they had been advanced by 
the virtues and abilities of one man, are at length dis- 
tracted by the convulsions that now shake it to its deep- 
est foundations. The new ministry finding the brave 
foes of Britain, though frequently defeated, yet still con- 
tending, took up the unfortunate idea of granting them 
a hasty peace, and of then subduing her faithful friends. 
These devoted colonies were judged to be in such 
a slate as to present victories without bloodshed, and 
uU the easy emoluments of statuteable plunder. The 
uninterrupted tenor of their peaceable and respectful 
behaviour from the beginning of colonization, their duti- 
ful, zealous, and useful services during the war, though 
so recently and amply acknowledged in the most honour- 
able manner, by his majesty, by the late king, and by 
parliament, could not save them from the meditated 
innovations. Parliament was influenced to adopt the 
pernicious project, and assummg a new power over them, 
have in the course of eleven years given such decisive 
specimens of the spirit and consequences attending this 
power, as to leave no doubt concerning the effects of 
acquiescence under it. They have undertaken to give 
and grant our money without our consent, though we 
have ever exercised an exclusive right to dispose of our 
own property; statutes have been passed for extending 
the jurisdiction of courts of admiralty and vice-admi- 
ralty beyond their ancient limits; for depriving us of 



4 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

the accustomed and inestimable privilege of trial by- 
jury, in cases affecting both life and property; for sus- 
pending the legislature of one of the Colonies ; for in- 
terdicting all commerce to the capital of another; and 
for altering fundamentally the form of government esta- 
blished by charter, and secured by acts of its own legis- 
lature solemnly confirmed by the crown ; for exempting 
the " murderers" of colonists from legal trial, and, in 
effect, from punishment; for erecting in a neighbouring 
province, acquired by the joint arms of Great Britain 
and America, a despotism dangerous to our very exist- 
ence; and for quartering soldiers upon the Colonists 
in time of profound peace. It has also been resolved in 
parliament, that Colonists charged with committing 
certain offences, shall be transported to England to be 
tried. 

But why should we enumerate our injuries in detail ? 
By one statute it is declared, that parliament can " of 
right make laws to bind us in all cases whatsoever." 
What is to defend us against so enormous, so unlimited 
a power ? Not a single man of those who assume it, is 
chosen by us ; or is subject to our control or influence ; 
but, on the contrary, they are all of them exempt from 
the operation of such laws; and an American revenue, if 
not diverted from the ostensible purposes for which it 
is raised, would actually lighten their own burdens in 
proportion as they increase ours. We saw the misery 
to which such despotism would reduce us. We for ten 
years incessantly and ineffectually besieged the throne 
as supplicants; we reasoned, we remonstrated with par- 
liament in the most mild and decent language. 

Administration sensible that we should regard these 
oppressive measures as freemen ought to do, sent over 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 5 

fleets and armies to enforce them. The indignation of 
the Americans w.as roused, it is true; but it was the in- 
dignation of a virtuous, loyal, and affectionate people. 
A Congress of delegates from the United Colonies was 
assembled at Philadelphia, on the fifth day of last Sep- 
tember. We resolved again to offer an humble and du- 
tiful petition to the king, and also addressed our fellow 
subjects of Great Britian. We have pursued every 
temperate, every respectful measure ; we have even pro- 
ceeded to break off our commercial intercourse with 
our fellow subjects, as the last peaceable admonition, 
that our attachment to no nation upon earth should 
supplant our attachment to liberty. This, we flattered 
ourselves, was the ultimate step of the controversy: but 
subsequent events have shown, how vain was this hope 
of finding moderation in our enemies. 

Several threatening expressions against the Colonies 
were inserted in his majesty's speech; our petition, 
though we were told it was a decent one, and that his 
majesty had been pleased to receive it graciously, and 
to promise laying it before his parliament, was huddled 
into both houses among a bundle of American papers, 
and there neglected. The lords and commons in their 
address, in the month of February, said that " a rebellion 
at that time actually existed within the province of Mas- 
sachusetts Bay; and that those concerned in it, had been 
countenanced and encouraged by unlawful combinations 
and engagements, entered into by his majesty's subjects 
in several of the other Colonies: and therefore they be- 
sought his majesty, that he would take the most effectual 
measures to enforce due obedience to the laws and autho- 
rity of the supreme legislature." Soon after, the com- 
mercial intercourse of whole Colonies, with foreign 

a2 



b AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

countries, and with each other, was cut off by an act of 
parliament; by another, several of them were entirely 
prohibited from the fisheries in the seas near their 
coast, on which they always depended for their suste- 
nance; and large reinforcements of ships and troops 
were immediately sent over to General Gage. 

Fruitless were all the entreaties, arguments, and elo- 
quence of an illustrious band of the most distinguished 
peers and commoners, who nobly and strenuously asserted 
the justice of our cause, to stay, or even to mitigate the 
heedless fury with which these accumulated and unex- 
ampled outrages were hurried on. Equally fruitless 
was the interference of the city of London, of Bristol, 
and many other respectable towns in our favour. Par- 
liament adopted an insidious manoeuvre calculated to 
divide us, to establish a perpetual auction of taxations 
where Colony should bid against Colony, all of them 
uninformed what ransom would redeem their lives ; and 
thus to extort from us, at the point of the bayonet, the 
unknown sums that would be sufficient to gratify, if pos- 
sible to gratify, ministerial rapacity, with the miserable 
indulgence left to us of raising, in our own mode, the 
prescribed tribute. What terms more rigid and humi- 
liating could have been dictated by remorseless victors to 
conquered enemies? In our circumstances to accept 
them, would be to deserve them. 

Soon after the intelligence of these proceedings arrived 
on this continent. General Gage, who in the course of 
the last year had taken possession of the town of Boston, 
in the province of Massachusetts Bay, and still occupied 
it as a garrison, on the 19th day of April, sent out from 
that place a large detachment of his army, who made 
an unprovoked assault on the inhabitants of the said pro- 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 7 

vince, at the town of Lexington, as appears by the affi- 
davits of a great number of persons, some of whom were 
officers and soldiers of that detachment, murdered eight 
of the inhabitants, and wounded many others. From 
thence the troops proceeded in warlike array to the town 
of Concord, where they set upon another party of the 
inhabitants of the same province, killing several and 
wounding more, until compelled to retreat by the coun- 
try people suddenly assembled to repel this cruel aggres- 
sion. Hostilities, thus commenced by the British troops, 
have been since prosecuted by them without regard to 
faith or reputation. The inhabitants of Boston being 
confined within that town by the general, their governor, 
and having, in order to procure their dismission, entered 
into a treaty with him, it was stipulated that the said 
inhabitants, having deposited their arms, with their own 
magistrates, should have liberty to depart, taking with 
them their other effects. They accordingly delivered 
up their arms ; but, in open violation of honour, in de- 
fiance of the obligation of treaties, which even savage 
nations esteem sacred, the governor ordered the arms 
deposited as aforesaid, that they might be preserved for 
their owners, to be seized by a body of soldiers ; detained 
the greatest part of the inhabitants in the town, and com- 
pelled the few who were permitted to retire, to leave 
their most valuable effects behind. 

By this perfidy, wives are separated from their hus- 
bands, children from their parents, the aged and the sick 
from their relations and friends, who wish to attend and 
comfort them; and those who have been used to live in 
plenty, and even elegance, are reduced to deplorable 
distress. 



8 AMERICAN filOGRAPHlCAL DlcriONARY* 

The general, further emulating his ministerial mas- 
ters, by a proclamation bearing date on the 12th day of 
June, after venting the grossest falsehoods and calumnies 
against the good people of these colonies, proceeds to 
" declare them all, either by name or description, to be re- 
bels and traitors, to supersede the course of the common 
law, and instead thereof, to publish and order the use and 
exercise of the law martial.*' His troops have butchered 
our countrymen, have wantonly burnt Charlestown, be- 
sides a considerable number of houses in other places ; 
bur ships and vessels are seized ; the necessary supplies 
of provisions are intercepted, and he is exerting his ut- 
most power to spread destruction and devastation around 
him. 

We have received certain intelligence, that General 
Carleton, the governor of Canada, is instigating the 
people of that province, and the Indians, to fall upon us ; 
and we have but too much reason to apprehend, thai 
schemes have been formed to excite domestic enemies 
against us. In brief, a part of these Colonies now feel, 
and all of them are sure of feeling, as far as the ven- 
geance of administration can inflict them, the compli- 
cated calamities of fire, sword, and famine. We are 
reduced to the alternative of choosing an unconditional 
submission to the tyranny of irritated ministers, or re- 
sistance by force. The latter is our choice. We have 

COUNTED THE COST OF THIS CONTEST, AND FIND NOTHING 
SO DREADFUL AS VOLUNTARY SLAVERY. HoUOUr, juSticC, 

and humanity, forbid us tamely to surrender that free- 
dom which we received from our gallant ancestors, and 
which our innocent posterity have a right to receive 
from us. We cannot endure the infamy and guilt of 
resigning succeeding generations to that wretchedness 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 9 

which inevitably awaits them, if we basely entail heredi- 
tary bondage upon them. 

Our cause is just. Our union is perfect. Our internal 
resources are great, and, if necessary, foreign assistance 
is undoubtedly attainable. We gratefully acknowledge, 
as signal instances of the Divine favour towards us, that 
his providence would not permit us to be called into 
this severe controversy, until we were grown up to our 
present strength, had been previously exercised in war- 
like operations, and possessed the means of defending 
ourselves. With hearts fortified with these animating 
reflections, we most solemnly, before God and the world, 
DECLARE, that, exerting the utmost energy of those 
powers, which our beneficent Creator hath graciously 
bestowed upon us, the arms we have been compelled by 
our enemies to assume, we will, in defiance of every 
hazard, with unabating firmness and perseverance, em- 
ploy for the preservation of our liberties; being with 

ONE MIND RESOLVED TO DIE FREEMEN RATHER THAN TO 
LIVE SLAVES. 

Lest this declaration should disquiet the minds of our 
friends and fellow-subjects in any part of the empire, 
we assure them that we mean not to dissolve that union 
which has so long and so happily subsisted between us, 
and which we sincerely wish to see restored. Necessity 
has not yet driven us into that desperate measure, or 
induced us to excite any other nation to war against 
them. We have not raised armies with ambitious de- 
signs of separating from Great Britain, and establishing 
independent states. We fight not for glory or for con- 
quest. We exhibit to mankind the remarkable spectacle 
of a people attacked by unprovoked enemies, without 
any imputation or even suspicion of offence. They boast 



10 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DlCflOKARY* 

of their privileges and civilization, and yet proffer no 
milder conditions than servitude or death. 

In our own native land, in defence of the freedom that 
is our birth-right, and which we ever enjoyed till the late 
violation of it; for the protection of our property, ac- 
quired solely by the honest industry of our forefathers 
and ourselves, against violence actually offered, we have 
taken up arms. We shall lay them down when hostili- 
ties shall cease on the part of the aggressors, and all 
danger of their being renewed shall be removed, and 
not before. 

With an humble confidence in the mercies of the 
supreme and impartial Judge and Ruler of the universe, 
we most devoutly implore his Divine goodness to pro- 
tect us happily through this great conflict, to dispose 
our adversaries to reconciliation on reasonable terms, 
and thereby to relieve the empire from the calamities 
of civil war. 



IN CONGRESS, Jcxy 8, 1775. 
To the King's most excellent majesty. 
Most Gracious Sovereign, 

We your majesty's faithful subjects of the Colonies 
of New Hampshire, Massachusetts Bay, Rhode Island, 
and Providence Plantations, Connecticut, New York, 
New Jersey, Pennsylvania, the counties of Newcastle, 
Kent, and Sussex on Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, 
North Carolina, and South Carolina, in behalf of our- 
selves and the inhabitants of these Colonies, who have 
deputed us to represent them in general congress, 



American biographical dictionary. 1 i 

entreat your majesty's gracious attention to this our 
humble petition. 

The union between our mother country and these 
colonies, and the energy of mild and just government, 
produced benefits so remarkably important, and afforded 
such an assurance of their permanency and increase, 
that the wonder and envy of other nations were excited, 
while they beheld Great Britain rising to a power the 
most extraordinary the world had ever known. 

Her rivals, observing that there was no probability of 
this happy connexion being broken by civil dissensions, 
and apprehending its future effects, if left any longer 
undisturbed, resolved to prevent her receiving such con- 
tinual and formidable accessions of wealth and strength, 
by checking the growth of those settlements from which 
they were to be derived. 

In the prosecution of this attempt, events so unfavour- 
able to the design took place, that every friend to the 
interest of Great Britain and these Colonies, entertained 
pleasing and reasonable expectations of seeing an addi- 
tional force and exertion immediately given to the opera- 
tions of the union, hitherto experienced, by an enlarge- 
ment of the dominions of the crown, and the removal 
of ancient and warlike enemies to a greater distance. 

At the conclusion, therefore, of the late war, the most 
glorious and advantageous that ever had been carried 
on by British arms, your loyal Colonists having contri- 
buted to its success, by such repeated and strenuous 
exertions, as frequently procured them the distinguished 
approbation of your majesty, of the late king, and of 
parliament, doubted not but that thefy should be permit- 
ted, with the rest of the empire, to share in the blessings 
of peace, and the emoluments of victory and conquest. 



12 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

While these recent and honourable acknowledgments 
of their merits remained on record in the journals and 
acts of that august legislature, the parliament, undefaced 
by the imputation or even the suspicion of any offence, 
they were alarmed by a new system of statutes and regu- 
lations adopted for the administration of the Colonies, 
that filled their minds with the most painful fears and 
jealousies; and to their inexpressible astonishment, per- 
ceived the danger of a foreign quarrel quickly suc- 
ceeded by domestic danger in their judgment of a more 
dreadful kind. 

Nor were these anxieties alleviated by any tendency 
in this system to promote the welfare of their mother 
country. For though its effects were more immediately 
felt by them, yet its influence appeared to be injurious 
to the commerce and prosperity of Great Britain. 

We shall decline the ungrateful task of describing the 
irksome variety of artifices, practised by many of your 
majesty's ministers, the delusive pretences, fruitless 
terrors, and unavailing severities that have from time to 
time been dealt out by them, in their attempts to exe- 
cute this impolitic plan, or of tracing, through a series 
of years past, the progress of the unhappy differences 
between Great Britain and these Colonies, that have 
flowed from this fatal source. 

Your majesty's ministers, persevering in their mea- 
sures, and proceeding to open hostilities for enforcing 
them, have compelled us to arm in our own defence, and 
have engaged us in a controversy so peculiarly abhor- 
rent to the affections of your still faithful Colonists, that 
when we consider whom we must oppose in this con- 
test, and if it continues, what may be the consequences, 
our own particular misfortunes are accounted by u» 
only as pafts of our distress. 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 13 

Knowing to what violent resentments, and incurable 
animosities, civil discords are apt to exasperate and in- 
flame the contending parties, we think ourselves re- 
quired, by indispensable obligations to Almighty God, 
to your majesty, to our fellow-subjects, and to ourselves, 
immediately to use all the means in our power, not in- 
compatible with our safety, for stopping the further 
effusion of blood, and for averting the impending ca- 
lamities that threaten the British empire. 

Thus called upon to address your majesty on affairs 
of such moment to America, and probably to all your 
dominions, we are earnestly desirous of performing this 
office, with the utmost deference for your majesty; and 
we therefore pray, that your majesty's royal magnani- 
mity and benevolence may make the most favourable 
constructions of our expressions on so uncommon an 
occasion. Could we represent in their full force, the 
sentiments that agitate the minds of us, your dutiful 
subjects, we are persuaded your majesty would ascribe 
any seeming deviation from reverence in our language, 
and even in our conduct, not to any reprehensible inten- 
tion, but to the impossibility of reconciling the usual 
appearances of respect, with a just attention to our own 
preservation against those artful and cruel enemies, who 
abuse your royal confidence and authority, for the pur- 
pose of effecting our destruction. 

Attached to your majesty's person, family, and govern- 
ment, with all devotion that principle and affection can 
inspire, connected with Great Britain by the strongest 
ties that can unite societies, and deploring every event 
that tends in any degree to weaken them, we solemnly 
assure your majesty, that we not only most ardently de- 
sire the former harmony between her and these Colonies 

B 



14 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

may be restored, but that a concord may be established 
between them upon so firm a basis as to perpetuate its 
blessings, uninterrupted by any future dissentions, to 
succeeding generations in both countries, and to trans- 
mit your majesty's name to posterity, adorned with that 
signal and lasting glory, that has attended the memory 
of those illustrious personages, whose virtues and abi- 
lities have extricated states from dangerous convulsions, 
and, by securing happiness to others, have erected the 
most noble and durable monuments to their own fame. 

We beg leave farther to assure your majesty, that, 
notwithstanding the sufferings of your loyal Colonists, 
during the course of this present controversy, our breasts 
retain too tender a regard for the kingdom from which 
v/e derive our origin, to request such a reconciliation 
as might, in any manner, be inconsistent with her dig- 
nity or her welfare. These, related as we are to her, 
honour and duty, as well as inclination, induce us to 
support and advance; and the apprehensions that now 
oppress our hearts with unspeakable grief, being once 
removed, your majesty will find your faithful subjects, 
on this continent, ready and willing at all times, as they 
have ever been, with their lives and fortunes, to assert 
and maintain the rights and interests of your majesty 
and of our mother country. 

We therefore beseech your majesty, that your royal 
authority and influence may be graciously interposed to 
procure us relief from our afflicting fears and jealousies, 
occasioned by the system before mentioned, and to settle 
peace through every part of your dominions, with all 
humility submitting to your majesty's wise consideration, 
whether it may not be expedient for facilitating those im- 
portant purposes, that your majesty be pleased to direct 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 15 

some mode, by which the united applications of your 
faithful Colonists to the throne, in pursuance of their 
common counsels, may be improved into a happy and 
permanent reconciliation ; and that, in the mean time, 
measures may be taken for preventing the further de- 
struction of the lives of your majesty's subjects; and 
that such statutes as more immediately distress any of 
your majesty's colonies, may be repealed. 

For, by such arrangements as your majesty's wisdom 
can form for collecting the united sense of your Ameri- 
can people, we are convinced your majesty would receive 
such satisfactory proofs of the disposition of the Colo- 
nists towards their sovereign and parent state, that the 
wished for opportunity would soon be restored to them, 
of evincing the sincerity of their professions, by every 
testimony of devotion becoming the most dutiful sub- 
jects and the most affectionate Colonists. 

That your majesty may enjoy a long and prosperous 
reign, and that your descendants may govern your do- 
minions with honour to themselves, and happiness to 
their subjects, is our sincere prayer. 



m CONGRESS, July 4, 1776. 
DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

THE UNANIMOUS DECLARATION OF THE THIRTEEN UNITED 
STATES OF AMERICA. 

When, in the course of human events, it becomes 
necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands 
which have connected them with another, and to assume, 
among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal 



16 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

Station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God 
entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind, 
requires that they should declare the causes which im- 
pel them to the separation. 

We hold these truths to be self-evident— that all 
men are created equal, that they are endowed by their 
Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among 
these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. 
That, to secure these rights, governments are instituted 
among men, deriving their just powers from the consent 
of the governed ; that whenever any form of government 
becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the 
people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new 
government, laying its foundation on such principles, 
and organizing its powers in such form, as to them 
shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happi- 
ness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that governments, 
long established, should not be changed for light and 
transient causes ; and accordingly all experience hath 
shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while 
evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolish- 
ing the forms to which they are accustomed. But 
when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing 
invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce 
them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is 
their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide 
new guards for their future security. Such has been 
the patient sufferance of these colonies; and such is 
now the necessity which constrains them to alter their 
former systems of government. The history of the pre- 
sent king of Great Britain, is a history of repeated 
injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the 
establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. 
To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world. 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 17 

He has refused his assent to laws the most whole- 
some and necessary for the public good. 

He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of imme- 
diate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their 
operation, till his assent should be obtained ; and when 
so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them. 
He has refused to pass other laws for the accommodation 
of large districts of people, unless those people would 
relinquish the right of representation in the legislature; 
a right inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants 
only. 

He has called together legislative bodies at places 
unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the repository 
of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing 
them into compliance with his measures. 

He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, 
for opposing, with manly firmness, his invasions on the 
rights of the people. 

He has refused for a long time after such dissolutions, 
to cause others to be elected ; whereby the legislative 
powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the 
people at large, for their exercise, the state remaining, 
in the mean time, exposed to all the dangers of invasion 
from without, and convulsions within. 

He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these 
states ; for that purpose obstructing the laws for natural- 
ization of foreigners ; refusing to pass others to encour- 
age their migration hither, and raising the conditions 
of new appropriations of lands. 

He has obstructed the administration of justice, by 
refusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary 
powers. 

b2 



18 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for 
the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment 
of their salaries. 

He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent 
hither swarms of officers, to harass our people, and eat 
out their substance. 

He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing 
armies, without the consent of our legislatures. 

He has affected to render the military independent 
of, and superior to, the civil power. 

He has combined with others to subject us to a juris- 
diction foreign to our constitution and unacknowledged 
by our laws; giving his assent to their acts of pretended 
legislation: 

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among 
us: 

For protecting them by a mock trial, from punish- 
ment for any rqiurders which they should commit on the 
inhabitants of these states: 

For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world : 

For imposing taxes on us without our consent : 

For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial 
by jury : 

For transporting us beyond seas to be tried for pre- 
tended offences: 

For abolishing the free system of English laws in a 
neighbouring province, establishing therein an arbitrary 
government, and enlarging its boundaries, so as to ren- 
der it at once an example and fit instrument for intro- 
ducing the same absolute rule into these colonies : 

For taking away our charters, abolishing our most 
valuable laws, and altering, fundamentally, the forms of 
our governments: 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 19 

For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring 
themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all 
cases whatsoever. 

He has abdicated government here, by declaring us 
out of his protection, and waging war against us. 

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt 
our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people. 

He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign 
mercenaries to complete the works of death, desolation, 
and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of cruelty 
and perfidy, scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous 
ages, and totally unworthy the head of a civilized na- 
tion. 

He has constrained our fellow citizens, taken captive 
on the high seas, to bear arms against their country, 
to become the executioners of their friends and brethren, 
or to fall themselves by their hands. 

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, 
and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our ' 
frontiers, the merciless Indian savages, whose known 
rule of warfare is an undistinguished destruction of all 
ages, sexes, and conditions. 

In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned 
for redress in the most humble terms: our repeated 
petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. 
A prince, whose character is thus marked by every act 
which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a 
free people. 

Nor have we been wanting in attentions to our British 
brethren. We have warned them, from time to time, 
of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrant- 
able jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of 
the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. 



20 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY, 

We have appealed to their native justice and magnani- 
mity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our 
common kindred to disavow these usurpations, virhich 
would inevitably interrupt our connexions and corre- 
spondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of 
justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, ac- 
quiesce in the necessity which denounces our separation, 
and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies 
in war, in peace friends. 

We, therefore, the representatives of the United States 
of America, in general congress assembled, appealing 
to the Supreme Judge of the world, for the rectitude of 
our intentions, do, in the name and by the authority of 
the good people of these Colonies, solemnly publish and 
declare, that these United Colonies are, and of right 
ought to be, FREE AND INDEPENDENT STATES ; that they 
are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, 
and that all political connexion between them and the 
state of Great Britain, is, and ought to be, totally dis- 
solved; and that as free and independent states, they 
have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract 
alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts 
and things which independent states may of right do. 
And for the support of this declaration, with a firm 
reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we 
mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, 
and our sacred honour. 

The foregoing declaration was, by order of congress, 
engrossed, and signed by the following members : 

JOHN HANCOCK. 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

New Hampshire. 
Josiah Bartlett. William Whipple. 

Matthew Thoniton, 

Massachusetts Bay, 
Samuel Adams, John Adams, 

Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry. 

Rhode Island^ fyc. 



21 



Stephen Hopkins, 

Roger Sherman, 
William Williams, 

William Floyd, 
Francis Lewis, 

Richard Stockton, 
Francis Hopkinson, 
Abraham Clark, 

Robert Morris, 
Benjamin Franklin, 
George Clymer, 
George Taylor, 
George Ross, 

Cesar A. Rodney, 
Thomas M'Kean, 

Samuel Chase, 
Thomas Stone, 



William Ellery. 

Connecticut. 

Samuel Huntingdon, 
Oliver Wolcott. 

New York, 

Philip Livingston, 
Lewis Morris. 

New Jersey, 

John Witherspoon, 
John Hart. 

Pennsylvania. 

Benjamin Rush, 
John Morton, 
James Smith, 
James Wilson. 

Delaware. 

George Read. 

Maryland, 

William Paca, 

Charles Carroll, Carrollton. 



22 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

Virginia, 
George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, 

Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, 

Thomas Nelson, jr. Francis Lightfoot Lee. 

Carter Braxton, 

North Carolina, 
William Hooper, Joseph Hewes. 

John Penn, 

South Carolina. 
Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, jr. 

Thomas Lynch, jr. Arthur Middleton. 

Georgia, 
Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall. 

George Walton, 

Resolved, That copies of the declaration be sent to the 
several assemblies, conventions, and committees, or coun- 
cils of safety, and to the several commanding officers of 
the continental troops; that it be proclaimed in each of 
the United States, and at the head of the army. 

It will be seen that Congress was, from the beginning, 
attentive to the commemoration of the Declaration of 
Independence. It appears by the journals, that in the 
year 1777, an adjournment took place from Thursday, 
the 3d of July, to Saturday, the 5th. And, on the 24th 
of June, 1778, Congress having determined to adjourn 
from York Town, in Pennsylvania, to meet at Philadel- 
phia on the 2nd of July following, passed the subjoined 
resolution ; in which it was farther resolved, that Con- 
gress would, in a body, attend divine worship on Sunday, 
the 5th day of July, to return thanks for the divine mer- 
cy, in supporting the independence of the states, and that 
the chaplains should be notified to officiate and preach 
sermons suited to the occasion; 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 23 

Resolved, That a committee of three be appointed to 
take proper measures for a public celebration of the 
anniversary of independence at Philadelphia, on the 4th 
day of July next; and that they be authorized and 
directed to invite the president and council, and speaker 
of the assembly of the commonwealth of Pennsylvania, 
and such other gentlemen and strangers of distinction, 
as they shall deem proper. 



IN CONGRESS, May 8, 1778. 
AN ADDRESS 

Of tht Congress, to the Inhabitants of the United States of 

America, 
Friends and Countrymen, 

Three years have now passed away, since the com- 
mencement of the present war. A war without parallel 
in the annals of mankind. It hath displayed a spectacle, 
the most solemn that can possibly be exhibited. On one 
side, we behold fraud and violence labouring in the ser- 
vice of despotism; on the other, virtue and fortitude sup- 
porting and establishing the rights of human nature. 

You cannot but remember how reluctantly we were 
dragged into this arduous contest; and how repeatedly, 
with the earnestness of humble entreaty, we supplicated 
a redress of our grievances from him who ought to have 
been the father of his people. In vain did we implore 
his protection: In vain appeal to the justice, the gene- 
rosity, of Englishmen ; of men, who had been the guar- 
dians, the assertors, and vindicators of liberty through a 
succession of ages: Men, who, with their swords, had 



24 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

established the firm barrier of freedom, and cemented 
it with the blood of heroes. Every effort was vain. 
For, even whilst we were prostrated at the foot of the 
throne, that fatal blow was struck, which hath sepa- 
rated us forever. Thus spurned, contemned and insulted ; 
thus driven by our enemies into measures, which our 
souls abhorred ; we made a solemn appeal to the tribunal 
of unerring wisdom and justice. To that Almighty 
Ruler of Princes, whose kingdom is over all. 

We were then quite defenceless. Without arms, with- 
out ammunition, without clothing, without ships, with- 
out money, without officers skilled in war; with no other 
reliance but the bravery of our people and the justice 
of our cause. We had to contend with a nation great 
in arts and in arms, whose fleets covered the ocean, 
whose banners had waved in triumph through every 
quarter of the globe. However unequal this contest, 
our weakness was still farther increased by the enemies 
which America had nourished in her bosom. Thus 
exposed, on the one hand, to external force and internal 
divisions; on the other to be compelled to drink of the 
bitter cup of slavery, and to go sorrowing all our lives 
long; in this sad alternative, we chose the former. To 
this alternative we were reduced by men, who, had they 
been animated by one spark of generosity, would have 
disdained to take such mean advantage of our situation; 
or, had they paid the least regard to the rules of justice, 
would have considered with abhorrence a proposition 
to injure those, who had faithfully fought their battles, 
and industriously contributed to rear the edifice of their 
glory. 

But, however great the injustice of our foes in com- 
mencing this war, it is by no means equal to that cruelty 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 25 

with which they have conducted it. The course of their 
armies is marked by rapine and devastation. Thousands, 
without distinction of age or sex, have been driven from 
their peaceful abodes, to encounter the rigours of incle- 
ment seasons ; and the face of heaven hath been insulted 
by the wanton conflagration of defenceless towns. Their 
victories have been followed by the cool murder of men, 
no longer able to resist; and those who escaped from 
the first act of carnage have been exposed, by cold, hun- 
ger, and nakedness, to wear out a miserable existence in 
the tedious hours of confinement, or to become the de- 
stroyers of their countrymen, of their friends, perhaps, 
dreadful idea ! of their parents or children. Nor was 
this the outrageous barbarity of an individual, but a sys- 
tem of deliberate malice, stamped with the concurrence 
of the British legislature, and sanctioned with all the 
formalities of law. Nay, determined to dissolve the 
closest bonds of society, they have stimulated servants 
to slay their masters in the peaceful hour of domestic 
security. And, as if all this were insufficient to slake 
their thirst of blood, the blood of brothers, of unoffend- 
ing brothers, they have excited the Indians against us ; 
and a general, who calls himself a christian, a follower 
of the merciful Jesus, hath dared to proclaim to all the 
world, his intention of letting loose against us whole 
hosts of savages, whose rule of warfare is promiscuous 
carnage ; who rejoice to murder the infant smiling in its 
mother's arms ; to inflict on their prisoners the most ex- 
cruciating torments, and exhibit scenes of horror from 
which nature recoils. 

Were it possible, they would have added to this terri- 
ble system: for they have offered the inhabitants of these 
states to be exported by their merchants to the sickly, 

c 



26 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

baneful climes of India, there to perish. An offer not 
accepted of, merely from the impracticability of carry- 
ing it into execution. 

Notwithstanding these great provocations, we have 
treated such of them as fell into our hands, with ten- 
derness, and studiously endeavoured to alleviate the 
afflictions of their captivity. This conduct we have 
pursued so far, as to be by them stigmatized with cow- 
ardice, and by our friends with folly. But our depen- 
dence was not upon man. It was upon Him, who hath 
commanded us to love our enemies, and to render good 
for evil. And what can be more wonderful than the 
manner of our deliverance? How often have we been 
reduced to distress, and yet been raised up? When the 
means to prosecute the war have been wanting to us, 
have not our foes themselves been rendered instrumental 
in providing them ? This hath been done in such a 
variety of instances, so peculiarly marked almost by 
the direct interposition of Providence, that not to feel 
and acknowledge his protection, would be the height of 
impious ingratitude. 

At length that God of battles, in whom M^as our trust, 
hath conducted us through the paths of danger and 
distress, to the thresholds of security. It hath now 
become morally certain, that, if we have courage to 
persevere, we shall establish our liberties and indepen- 
dence. The haughty prince who spurned us from his 
feet with contumely and disdain, and the parliament 
which proscribed us, now descend to offer terms of ac- 
commodation. Whilst in the full career of victory, 
they pulled off the mask, and avowed their intended 
despotism. But having lavished in vain the blood and 
treasure of their subjects, ia pursuit of this execrable 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 27 

purpose, they now endeavour to ensnare us with the in- 
sidious offers of peace. They would seduce you into a 
dependence which, necessarily, inevitably leads to the 
most humiliating slavery. And do they believe that 
you will accept these fatal terms? Because you have 
suffered the distresses of war, do they suppose that you 
will basely lick the dust before the feet of your destroy- 
ers? Can there be an American so lost to the feelings 
which adorn human nature? To the generous pride, 
the elevation, the dignity of freedom I Is there a man 
who would not abhor a dependence upon those, who 
have deluged his country in the blood of its inhabitants ? 
We cannot suppose this, neither is it possible that they 
themselves can expect to make many converts.—- What 
then is their intention ? Is it not to lull you with the fal- 
lacious hopes of peace, imtil they can assemble new 
armies to prosecute their nefarious designs ? If this is 
not the case, why do they strain every nerve to levy men 
throughout their islands? Why do they meanly court 
every little tyrant of Europe to sell them his unhappy 
slaves ? Why do they continue to embitter the minds 
of the savages against you ? Surely this is not the way 
to conciliate the affections of America. Be not, there- 
fore, deceived. You have still to expect one severe con- 
flict. Your foreign alliances, though they secure your 
independence, cannot secure your country from deso- 
lation, your habitations from plunder, your wives from 
insult or violation, nor your children from butchery. 
Foiled in their principal design, you must expect to feel 
the rage of disappointed ambition. Arise then I to your 
tents ! and gird you for battle. It is time to turn ^Oi^ 
headlong current of vengeance upon the head of the 
destroyer. They have filled up the measure of their 



28 \MERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

abominations, and like ripe fruit must soon drop from 
the tree. Although much is done, yet much remains 
to do. Expect not peace, whilst any corner of America 
is in possession of your foes. You must drive them 
away from the land of promise, a land flowing indeed 
with milk and honey. Your brethren at the extremi- 
ties of the continent, already implore your friendship 
and protection. It is your duty to grant their request. 
They hunger and thirst after liberty. Be it yours to 
dispense the heavenly gift. And what is there now to 
prevent it? 

After the unremitted efforts of our enemies, we are 
stronger than before. Nor can the wicked emissaries, 
who so assiduously labour to promote their cause, point 
out any one reason to suppose that we shall not receive 
daily accessions of strength. They tell you, it is true, that 
your money is of no value; and your debts so enormous 
they can never be paid. But we tell you, that if Britain 
prosecutes the war another campaign, that single cam- 
paign will cost her more than we have hitherto expended. 
And yet these men would prevail upon you to take up 
that immense load, and for it to sacrifice your dearest 
rights. For, surely, there is no man so absurd as to sup- 
pose, that the least shadow of liberty can be preserved 
in a dependent connexion with Great Britain. From 
the nature of the thing it is evident, that the only se- 
curity you could obtain, would be, the justice and mode- 
ration of a parliament, who have sold the rights of 
their own constituents. And this slender security is 
still farther weakened, by the consideration, that it was 
pledged to rebels (as they unjustly call the good people 
of these states) with whom they think they are not bound 
to keep faith by any law whatsoever. Thus would you 
be cast, bound, among men, whose minds, by your vir- 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 29 

tuous resistance, have been sharpened to the keenest 
edge of revenge. Thus would your children, and your 
children's children, be by you forced to a participation 
of all their debts, their wars, their luxuries, and their 
crimes. And this mad, this impious system, they would 
lead you to adopt, because of the derangement of your 
finances. 

It becomes you deeply to reflect on this subject. Is 
there a country upon earth, which hath such resources 
for the payment of her debts, as America ? Such an 
extensive territory ; so fertile, so blessed in its climate 
and productions. Surely there is none. Neither is there 
any, to which the wise Europeans will sooner confide 
their property. What then are the reasons that your 
money hath depreciated ? Because no taxes have been 
imposed to carry on the war. Because your commerce 
hath been interrupted by your enemies* fleets. Because 
their armies have ravaged and desolated a part of your 
country. Because their agents have villanously coun- 
terfeited your bills. Because extortioners among you, 
inflamed with the lust of gain, have added to the price 
of every article of life. And because weak men have 
been artfully led to believe that it is of no value. How 
is this dangerous disease to be remedied ? Let those 
among you, who have leisure and opportunity, collect 
the monies which individuals in their neighbourhood 
are desirous of placing in the public funds. Let the 
several legislatures sink their respective emissions, that 
so, there being but one kind of bills, there may be 
less danger of counterfeits. Refrain a little from pur- 
chasing those things which are not absolutely necessary, 
that so those who have engrossed commodities may suf- 
fer (as they deservedly will) the loss of their ill gotten 

c2 



30 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

hoards, by reason of the commerce with foreign nations, 
which the fleets will protect. Above all, bring forward 
your armies into the field. Trust not to appearances 
of peace or safety. Be assured, that unless you perse- 
vere, you will be exposed to every species of barbarity. 
But, if you exert the means of defence which God and 
nature have given you, the time will soon arrive, when 
every man shall sit under his own vine and fig tree, and 
there shall be none to make him afraid. 

The sweets of a free commerce with every part of the 
earth will soon reimburse you for all the losses you 
Have sustained. The full tide of wealth will flow in upon 
your shores, free from the arbitrary impositions of those 
whose interest and whose declared policy it was to 
check your growth. Your interest will be fostered and 
nourished by governments, that derive their power 
from your grant, and will therefore be obliged, by the 
influence of cogent necessity, to exert it in your favour. 

It is to obtain these things that we call for your stre- 
nuous, unremitted exertions. Yet do not believe that 
you have been or can be saved merely by your own 
strength. No ! it is by the assistance of Heaven; and 
this you must assiduously cultivate by acts which Hea- 
ven approves. Thus shall the power and the happiness 
of these Sovereign, Free, and Independent States, found- 
ed on the virtue of their citizens, increase, extend, and 
endure, until the Almighty shall blot out all the empires 
of the earth. 

Resolved, That it be recommended to the ministers 
of the gospel, of all denominations, to read or cause to 
be read immediately after divine service, the above ad- 
dress to the inhabitants of the United States of America, 
in their respective churches and chapels, and other 
places of religious worship. 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 31 

IN CONGRESS, Octobeii 30, 1778. 
By the Congress of the United States of America. 
A MANIFESTO. 

These United States having been driven to hostilities 
by the oppressive and tyrannous measures of Great 
Britain : having been compelled to commit the essential 
rights of man to the decision of arms; and having 
been, at length, forced to shake off a yoke which had 
grown too burthensome to bear, they declared them- 
selves free and independent. 

Confiding in the justice of their cause; confiding in 
Him who disposes of human events, although weak and 
unprovided, they set the power of their enemies at defi- 
ance. 

In this confidence they have continued through the 
various fortune of three bloody campaigns, unawed by the 
power, unsubdued by the barbarity of their foes. Their 
virtuous citizens have borne, without repining, the loss 
of many things which make life desirable. Their brave 
troops have patiently endured the hardships and dan- 
gers of a situation, fruitful in both beyond former ex- 
ample. 

The congress, considering themselves bound to love 
their enemies, as children of that Being who is equally 
the father of all; and desirous, since they could not 
prevent, at least to alleviate, the calamities of war, have 
studied to spare those who were in arms against them, 
and to lighten the chains of captivity. 

The conduct of those serving under the king of Great 
Britain hath, with some few exceptions, been diametri- 
cally opposite. They have laid waste the open country, 



32 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

burned the defenceless villages, and butchered the citi- 
zens of America. Their prisons have been the slaugh- 
ter houses of her soldiers ; their ships of her seamen, 
and the severest injuries have been aggravated by the 
grossest insults. 

Foiled in their vain attempt to subjugate the uncon- 
querable spirit of freedom, they have meanly assailed 
the representatives of America with bribes, with deceit, 
and the servility of adulation. They have made a mock 
of humanity, by the wanton destruction of men ; they 
have made a mock of religion, by impious appeals to 
God, whilst in the violation of his sacred commands ; 
they have made a mock even of reason itself, by endeav- 
ouring to prove that the liberty and happiness of Ame- 
rica could safely be intrusted to those who have sold 
their own, unawed by the sense of virtue or of shame. 

Treated with the contempt which such conduct de- 
served, they have applied to individuals: they have 
solicited them to break the bonds of allegiance, and 
imbrue their souls with the blackest of crimes; but, 
fearing that none could be found through these United 
States, equal to the wickedness of their purpose, to in- 
fluence weak minds, they have threatened more wide 
devastation. 

While the shadow of hope remained, that our enemies 
could be taught, by our example, to respect those laws 
which are held sacred among civilized nations, and to 
comply with the dictates of a religion, which they pre- 
tend, in common with us, to believe and to revere, they 
have been left to the influence of that religion and that 
example. But since their incorrigible dispositions can- 
not be touched by kindness ajad compassion, it becomes 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 33 

our duty by other means to vindicate the rights of hu- 
manity. 

We, therefore, the Congress of the United States of 
America, do solemnly declare and proclaim, that if our 
enemies presume to execute their threats, or persist in 
their present career of barbarity, we will take such 
exemplary vengeance as shall deter others from a like 
conduct. We appeal to that God who searcheth the 
hearts of men, for the rectitude of our intentions ; and, 
in His holy presence, we declare, that as we are not 
moved by any light and hasty suggestions of anger and 
revenge, so through every possible change of fortune 
we will adhere to this our determination. 



GENERAL ORDERS 

ISSUED BY GENERAL WASHINGTON, TO THE ARMY OF THE 
UNITED STATES. 

Head Quarters^ April 18, 1783. 

The commander in chief orders the cessation of hos- 
tilities between the United States of America and the 
king of Great Britain, to be publicly proclaimed to- 
morrow at twelve o'clock, at the new building: and that 
the proclamation which will be communicated herewith, 
be read to-morrow evening at the head of every regi- 
ment and corps of the army; after which the chaplains, 
with the several brigades, will render thanks to Al- 
mighty God for all his mercies, particularly for his over- 
ruling the wrath of man to his own glory, and causing 
the rage of war to cease among the nations. 

Although the proclamation before alluded to, extends 



34 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

only to the prohibition of hostilities, and not to the an- 
nunciation of a general peace, yet it must afford the 
most rational and sincere satisfaction to every benevo- 
lent mind, as it puts a period to a long and doubtful 
contest, stops the effusion of human blood, opens the 
prospect to a more splendid scene, and, like another 
morning star, promises the approach of a brighter day 
than hath hitherto illuminated the western hemisphere. 
On such a happy day, which is the harbinger of peace, 
a day which completes the eighth year of the war, it 
would be ingratitude not to rejoice; it would be insen- 
sibility not to participate in the general felicity. 

The commander in chief, far from endeavouring to 
stifle the feelings of joy in his own bosom, offers his 
most cordial congratulations on the occasion to all the 
officers of every denomination; to all the troops of the 
United States in general ; and in particular to those 
gallant and persevering men who had resolved to defend 
the rights of their invaded country, so long as the war 
should continue. For these are the men who ought to 
be considered as the pride and boast of the American 
army; and who, crowned with well earned laurels, may 
soon withdraw from the field of glory to the more tran- 
quil walks of civil life. While the commander in chief 
recollects the almost infinite variety of scenes through 
which we have passed, with a mixture of pleasure, as- 
tonishment, and gratitude ; while he contemplates the 
prospects before us with rapture, he cannot help wish- 
ing that all the brave men, of whatever condition they 
may be, who have shared the toils and dangers of effect- 
ing this glorious revolution ; of rescuing millions from 
the hand of oppression, and of laying the foundation of 
a great empire, might be impressed with a proper idea 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIOXART. 35 

of the dignified part they have been called to act, under 
the smiles of Providence, on the stage of human affairs; 
for happy, thrice happy shall they be pronounced 
hereafter, who have contributed any thing, who have 
performed the meanest office in erecting this stupendous 
fabric of freedom and empire, on the broad basis of in- 
dependency; who have assisted in protecting the rights 
of human nature, and establishing an asylum for the 
poor and oppressed of all nations and religions. The 
glorious task for which we first flew to arms being ac- 
complished ; the liberties of our country being fully ac- 
knowledged, and firmly secured, by the smiles of heaven 
on the purity of our cause, and the honest exertions of 
a feeble people, determined to be free, against a power- 
ful nation disposed to oppress them; and the character 
of those who have persevered through every extremity 
of hardship, suffering, and danger, being immortalized 
by the illustrious appellation oi the patriot army; nothing 
now remains but for the actors of this mighty scene to 
preserve a perfect unvarying consistency of character 
through the very last act, to close the drama with ap- 
plause ; and to retire from the military theatre with the 
same approbation of angels and men, which have crowned 
all their former virtuous actions. For this purpose no 
disorder or licentiousness must be tolerated. Every 
considerate and well disposed soldier must remember, it 
will be absolutely necessary to wait with patience until 
peace shall be declared, or Congress shall be enabled to 
take proper measures for the security of the public 
stores, &c. As soon as these arrangements shall be 
made, the general is confident, there will be no delay in 
discharging, with every mark of distinction and honour, 
all the men enlisted for the war, who will then hare 



36 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

faithfully performed their engagements with the public. 
The general has already interested himself in their be- 
half; and he thinks he need not repeat the assurance of 
his disposition, to be useful to them on the present, and 
every other proper occasion. In the mean time, he is 
determined that no military neglects or excesses shall 
go unpunished, while he retains the command of the 
army. 

The adjutant-general will have such working parties 
detached, to assist in making the preparations for a 
general rejoicing, as the chief engineer of the army shall 
call for; and the quarter-master-general will, without 
delay, procure such a number of discharges to be printed 
as will be sufficient for all the men enlisted for the M'ar. 
He will please to apply to head quarters for the form. 
An extra ration of liquor to be issued to every man to- 
morrow, to drink " Perpetual peace and happiness to 
the United States of America." 



FAREWELL ADDRESS 

Oy GENERAL WASHINGTON, TO THE ARMIES OF THE UNITED 
STATES. 

Rocky -HllU near Princeton^ November 2, 1783. 
The United States in Congress assembled, after giving 
the most honourable testimony to the merits of the 
federal armies, and presenting them with the thanks of 
their country, for their long, eminent, and faithful ser- 
vices, having thought proper, by their proclamation, 
bearing date the 18th of October last, to discharge such 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 37 

part of the troops as were engaged for the war, and to 
permit the officers on furlough to retire from service, 
from and after to-morrow ; which proclamation having 
been communicated in the public papers, for the infor- 
mation and government of all concerned, it only remains 
for the commander in chief to address himself once 
more, and that for the last time, to the armies of the 
United States, (however widely dispersed individuals 
who compose them may be) and to bid them an affec- 
tionate, a long farewell. 

But before the commander in chief takes his final 
leave of those he holds most dear, he wishes to indulge 
himself a few moments in calling to mind a slight view 
of the past. He will then take the liberty of exploring, 
Avith his military friends, their future prospects; of ad- 
vising; the general line of conduct, which, in his opinion, 
ought to be pursued ; and he will conclude the address, 
by expressing the obligations he feels himself under for 
the spirited and able assistance he has experienced from 
them, in the performance of an arduous office. 

A contemplation of the complete attainment, (at a 
period earlier than could have been expected,) of the 
object for which we contended, against so formidable a 
power, cannot but inspire us with astonishment and 
gratitude. The disadvantageous circumstances on our 
part, under which the war was undertaken, can never be 
forgotten. The signal interpositions of Providence in 
our feeble condition, were such as could scarcely escape 
the attention of the most unobserving; Avhile the un- 
paralleled perseverance of the armies of the United 
States, through almost every possible suifering and dis- 
couragement, for the space of eight long years, was little 
short of a standing miracle. 



38 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

It is not in the meaning, nor within the compass of 
this address, to detail the hardships peculiarly incident 
to our service, or to describe the distresses, which, in 
several instances, have resulted from the extremes of 
hunger and nakedness, combined with the rigours of an 
inclement season; nor is it necessary to dwell on the 
dark side of our past affairs. 

Every American officer and soldier must now console 
himself for any unpleasant circumstance which may 
have occurred, by a recollection of the uncommon scenes 
in which he has been called to act no inglorious part, 
and the astonishing events of which he has been a wit- 
ness — events which have seldom, if ever before, taken 
place on the stage of human action ; nor can they pro- 
bably ever happen again. For who has before seen a 
disciplined army formed at once from such raw materi- 
als ? Who that was not a witness, could imagine that 
the most violent local prejudices would cease so soon, 
and that men who came from the different parts of the 
continent, strongly disposed by the habits of education, 
to despise and quarrel with each other, would instantly 
become but one patriotic band of brothers ? Or who 
that was not on the spot, can trace the steps by which 
such a wonderful revolution has been effected, and such 
a glorious period put to all our warlike toils ? 

It is universally acknowledged that the enlarged pros- 
pects of happiness, opened by the confirmation of our 
independence and sovereignty, almost exceeds the power 
of description: And shall not the brave men who have 
contributed so essentially to these inestimable acquisi- 
tioTKS, retiring victorious from the field of war to the 
field of agriculture, paKicipate in all the blessings which 
have been obtained ? in such a republic, who will ex- 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL Dlf'TIONARY. 39 

elude them from the rights of citizens, and the fruits 
of their labours ? In such a country, so happily cir- 
cumstanced, the pursuits of commerce and the cultiva- 
tion of the soil, will unfold to industry the certain road 
to competence. To those hardy soldiers, who are actu- 
ated by the spirit of adventure, the fisheries will afford 
ample and profitable employment ; and the extensive 
and fertile regions of the west will yield a most happy 
asylum to those, who, fond of domestic enjoyment, are 
seeking for personal independence. Nor is it possible 
to conceive that anyone of the United States will prefer 
a national bankruptcy, and the dissolution of the union, 
to a compliance with the requisitions of Congress, and 
the payment of its just debts, so that the officers and 
soldiers may expect considerable assistance, in recom- 
mencing their civil occupations, from the sums due to 
them from the public, which must and will most inevi- 
tably be paid. 

In order to effect this desirable purpose, and to re- 
move the prejudices which may have taken possession 
of the minds of any of the good people of the states, it 
is earnestly recommended to all the troops, that, with 
strong attachments to the union, they should carry with 
them into civil society the most conciliating disposi- 
tions; and that they should prove themselves not less 
virtuous and useful citizens, than they have been perse- 
vering and victorious soldiers. What though there 
should be some envious individuals, who are unwilling 
to pay the debt the public has contracted, or to yield 
the tribute due to merit; yet let such unworthy treat- 
ment produce no invective, or any instance of intem- 
perate conduct ; let it be remembered, that the unbias- 
sed voice of the free citizens of the United States has 



40 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

promised the just reward, and given the merited ap- 
plause ; let it be known and remembered, that the repu- 
tation of the federal armies is established beyond the 
reach of malevolence, and let a consciousness of their 
achievements and fame still incite the men who composed 
them to honourable actions, under the persuasion, that 
the private virtues of economy, prudence, and industry, 
will not be less amiable in civil life, than the more 
splendid qualities of valour, perseverance, and enter- 
prise, were in the field. Every one may rest assured that 
much, very much, of the future happiness of the officers 
and men, will depend upon the wise and manly conduct 
which shall be adopted by them, when they are min- 
gled with the great body of the community. And al- 
though the general has so frequently given it as his 
opinion, in the most public and explicit manner, that 
unless the principles of the federal government were 
properly supported, and the powers of the union in- 
creased, th« honour, dignity, and justice of the nation 
would be lost for ever : yet he cannot help repeating, on 
this occasion, so interesting a sentiment, and leaving it, 
as his last injunction, to every officer, and every soldier, 
who may view the subject in the same serious point of 
light, to add his best endeavours, to those of his worthy 
fellow-citizens, toward effecting these great and valuable 
purposes, on which our very existence, as a nation, so 
materially depends. 

The commander in chief conceives little is now want- 
ing to enable the soldier to change his military charac- 
ter into that of the citizen, but that steady and decent 
tenour of behaviour, which has generally distinguished, 
not only the army under his immediate command, but 
the different detachments and separate armies, through 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 41 

the course of the war; from their good sense and pru- 
dence, he anticipates the happiest consequences, and 
while he congratulates them on the glorious occasion 
which renders their services in the field no longer ne- 
cessary, he wishes to express the strong obligations he 
feels himself under, for the assistance he has received 
from every class, and in every instance. He presents 
his thanks, in the most serious and affectionate manner, 
to the general officers, as well for their counsel, on many- 
interesting occasions, as for their ardour in promoting 
the success of the plans he had adopted; to the com- 
mandants of regiments and corps, and to the other offi- 
cers, for their great zeal and attention in carrying his 
orders promptly into execution ; to the staff, for their 
alacrity and exactness in performing the duties of their 
several departments ; and to the non-commissioned offi- 
cers and soldiers, for their extraordinary patience in 
suffering, as well as their invincible fortitude in action ; 
to the various branches of the army, the general takes 
this last and solemn opportunity of professing his in- 
violable attachment and friendship. He wishes more 
than bare professions were in his power, that he was 
really able to be useful to them all in future life. He 
flatters himself, however, they will do him the justice 
to believe, that whatever could, with propriety, be at- 
tempted by him, has been done. And being now to 
conclude these, his last public orders, to take his ulti- 
mate leave, in a short time, of the military character, 
and to bid a final adieu to the armies he has so long 
had the honour to command, he can only again offer, in 
their behalf, his recommendations to their grateful 
country, and his prayers to the God of armies. May 
ample justice be done them here, and may the choicest 
D 2 



42 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONART* 

of Heaven's favours, both here and hereafter, attend 
those, who, under the Divine auspices, have secured 
innumerable blessings for others. With these wishes, 
and this benediction, the commander in chief is about 
to retire from service. The curtain of separation will 
soon be drawn, and the military scene, to him, will be 
closed for ever. 



General TFasJmigton to the President of Congress on re- 
signing his commission — December 23, 1883. 

Mr. President — 

The great events on which my resignation depended, 
having at length taken place, I have now the honour of 
offering my sincere congratulations to congress, and of 
presenting myself before them to surrender into their 
hands the trust committed to me, and to claim the in- 
dulgence of retiring from the service of my country. 

Happy in the confirmation of our independence and 
sovereignty, and pleased with the opportunity afforded 
the United States of becoming a respectable nation, I 
resign with satisfaction the appointment I accepted with 
diffidence ; a diffidence in my abilities to accomplish so' 
arduous a task, which, however, was superseded by a 
confidence in the rectitude of our cause, the support of 
the supreme power of the union, and the patronage ot 
Heaven. 

The successful termination of the war, has verified 
the most sanguine expectations; and my gratitude for 
the interposition of Providence, and the assistance I 
have received from my countrymen, increases with every 
view of the momentous contest. 



AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 43 

While I repeat my obligations to the army in general, 
I should do injustice to my own feelings not to acknow- 
ledge in this place, the peculiar services and distin- 
guished merits of the persons who have been attached 
to my person during the war. It was impossible that 
the choice of confidential officers to compose my family 
could have been more fortunate. Permit me, sir, to re- 
commend in particular, those who have continued in the 
service to the present moment, as worthy of the favoura- 
ble notice and patronage of congress. 

I consider it as an indispensable duty to close this last 
solemn act of my official life, by commending the inte- 
rests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty 
God, and those who have the superintendence of them 
to his holy keeping. 

Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire 
from the great theatre of action ; and, bidding an affec- 
tionate farewell to this august body, under whose orders 
I have long acted, I here offer my commission, and take 
my leave of all the employments of public life* 



T%e Amwtt of General Wfflin^ the President of Congress, 
to the foregoing speech. 

Sir — The United States in congress assembled, re- 
ceive with emotions too affecting for utterance, the 
solemn resignation of the authorities under which you 
have led their troops with success, through a perilous 
and doubtful war. 

Called upon by your country to defend its invaded 
rights, you accepted the sacred charge before it had 
formed alliances, and whilst it was without friends or a 
government to support yo\u 



44 AMERICAN BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY. 

You have conducted the great military contest with 
wisdom and fortitude, invariably regarding the rights 
of the civil power through all disasters and changes : 
you have, by the love and confidence of your fellow -citi- 
zens, enabled them to display their martial genius, and 
transmit their fame to posterity ; you have persevered, 
till these United States, aided by a magnanimous king 
and nation, have been enabled, under a just Providence, 
to close the war in safety, freedom, and independence ; 
on which happy event we sincerely join you in con- 
gratulations. 

Having defended the standard of liberty in this new 
world ; having taught a lesson useful to those who in- 
flict, and to those who feel oppression, you retire from 
the great theatre of action, with the blessings of your 
fellow-citizens ; but the glory of your virtues will not 
terminate with your military command ; it will continue 
to animate remotest ages. We feel, with you, our obli- 
gations to the army in general, and will particularly 
charge ourselves with the interest of those confidential 
officers, who have attended your person to this affecting 
moment. 

We join you in commending the interests of our 
dearest country to the protection of Almighty God, be- 
seeching Him to dispose the hearts and minds of its 
citizens, to improve the opportunity afforded them, of 
becoming a happy and respectable nation ; and for you, 
we address to Him our earnest prayers, that a life so 
beloved, may be fostered with all His care : that your 
days may be happy, as they have been illustrious, and 
that He will finally give you that reward which the 
world cannot give. 



AMERICAN 

BZOGRAPHXCAZ. DZCTZONARY. 



ADAMS, Samuel, one of the most distinguished 
patriots of the American revolution, was born in Bos- 
ton, Massachusetts, on the 22d of September, 1722. 
His ancestors were among the first settlers in New Eng- 
land. His parents were highly respectable. His father 
was, for many years, a representative for the town of 
Boston, in the Massachusetts house of Assembly, in 
which he was annually elected till his death. 

Samuel Adams received the rudiments of a liberal 
education at the grammar school under the care of Mr. 
Lovell, where he was remarkably attentive to his studies. 
His conduct was similar while he was at college, and 
during the whole term he had to pay but one fine, and 
this was for not attending morning prayers, in conse- 
quence of having overslept himself. By a close and 
steady application, he made considerable proficiency in 
classical learning, logic, and natural philosophy ; but as 
he was designed for the ministry, a profession to which 
he seems to have been much inclined, his studies were 
particularly directed to systematic divinity. Why Mr. 
Adams did not assume the clerical character, so conge- 
nial to his views and habits, does not appear. In 1740, 
and 1743, the respective degrees of bachelor and master 
of arts were conferred upon him. On the latter occa- 
sion, he proposed the following question for discussion, 
"whether it be lawful to resist the supreme magistrate, 
if the commonwealth cannot otherwise be preserved?" 
He maintained the affirmative of this proposition, and 
thus evinced, at this period of his life, his attachment 
to the liberties of the people. While he was a student^ 



46 ADAMS. 

his father allowed him a regular stipend. Of this, he 
saved a sufficient sum, to publish, at his own expense, a 
pamphlet, called " Englishmen's Rights.'* 

He was put an apprentice to the late Thomas Gushing, 
an eminent merchant. For this profession he was ill 
adapted, and it received but a small share of his atten- 
tion. The study of politics was his chief delight. At 
this time he formed a club, each member of which 
agreed to furnish a political essay for a newspaper call- 
ed the Independent Advertiser. These essays brought 
the writers into notice, who were called, in derision, 
" the Whipping Post Club." 

His limited knowledge of commerce rendered him 
incompetent to support himself by that pursuit. His 
father, however, gave him a considerable capital, with 
which he commenced business. He had not been long 
in trade when he credited one of his countrymen with a 
sum of money. This person, soon after, met with 
heavy calamities, which he represented to Mr. Adams, 
who never demanded the amount, although it was nearly 
half the value of his original stock. This, and other 
losses, soon consumed all he had. 

At the age of twenty-five, his father died, and as he 
was the eldest son, the care of the family and manage- 
ment of the estate, devolved upon him. 

Early distinguished by talents, as a writer, his first 
attempts were proofs of his filial piety. By his efforts 
he preserved the estate of his father, which had been 
attached on account of an engagement in the land bank 
bubble. He became a political writer during the ad- 
ministration of Shirley, to which he was opposed, as he 
thought the union of so much civil and military power, 
in one man, was dangerous. His ingenuity, wit, and 
profound argument, are spoken of with the highest re- 
spect by those who were contemporary with him. At 
this early period he laid the foundation of public confi- 
dence and esteem. 

It may be proper to mention that his first office in the 
town was that of tax-gatherer, which the opposite party 
in politics often alluded to, and in their controversies 
would style him Samuel the Publican. While the Bri- 
tish regiments were in town, the tories enjoyed a kind 



ADAMS. 47 

ot* triumph, and invented every mode of burlesquing the 
popular leaders : but, where the people tax themselves, 
the office of collector is respectable ; it was, at that 
time, given to gentlemen who had seen better days, and 
needed some pecuniary assistance, having merited the 
esteem and confidence of their fellow townsmen. Mr. 
Adams was ill qualified to fill an office which required 
such constant attention to pecuniary matters ; and, his 
soul being bent on politics, he passed more time in talk- 
ing against Great Britain than in collecting the sums 
due to the town. He grew embarrassed in his circum- 
stances, and was assisted, not only by private friends, 
but by many others who knew him only as a spirited 
partisan in the cause of liberty. 

From this time, the whigs were determined to support 
him to the utmost of their power. He had been always 
on their side, was firm and sagacious, one of the best 
writers in the newspapers, ready upon every question, 
but especially conversant with all matters which related 
to the dispute between Great Britain and the colonies. 

We have said that there was a private political club 
in Boston, where decisiVe measures originated, which 
gave a secret spring and impulse to the motions of the 
public body, and that Mr. Adams was one of the patriotic 
conclave. This confederacy came to a determination 
to resist every infringement of their rights. The stamp 
act was a flagrant violation of them, and to suffer it 
quietly to be carried into effect, would establish a pre- 
cedent, and encourage fuither proceedings of a similar 
nature. Mr. Adams was one of those who opposed it 
in every step. He was not averse to the manner in 
which the people evinced their determinate opposition, 
by destioying the stamp papers and office in Boston; 
but he highly disapproved of the riots and disorders 
which followed, and personally aided the civil power to 
put a stop to them. 

The laxe.8 upon /e«, oz/, and colours^ were still more 
odious to the Americans than the stainp act ; especially 
to the inhabitants of Boston, where the board of com- 
missioners was established. The people looked to Mr. 
Adams as one of the champions of liberty, who must 
stand forth against every claim of Great Britain, and 



48 ADAMS. 

deny the right of the parent state to lay a tax ; nor were 
they disappointed. He was so strenuous in his exer- 
tions to make the people sensible of their charter privi- 
leges, that he obtained the appellation of the patriot 
Samuel Adams. 

In 1765, he was elected a member of the general as- 
sembly of Massachusetts. He was soon chosen clerk, 
and he gradually acquired influence in the legislature. 
This was an eventful time. But Mr. Adams possessed 
a courage which no dangers could shake. He was un- 
dismayed by the prospect, which struck terror into the 
hearts of many. He was a member of the legislature 
near ten years, and he was the soul which animated it 
to the most important resolutions. No man did so 
much. He pressed his measures with ardour; yet he 
was prudent; he knew how to bend the passions of 
others to his purpose. 

The congress which assembled at New York, at this 
period, was attributed to a suggestion made by Mr. 
Adams. It has been said, with confidence, that he was 
the first man who proposed it in Massachusetts. 

Inconsequence of the act imposing duties, in 1767, 
Mr. Adams suggested a non-importation agreement with 
the merchants. This was agreed to, and signed by 
nearly all of them in the province. They bound them- 
selves, if the duties were not repealed, not to import, or 
to order any, but certain enumerated acticles, after the 
first of January, 1769. 

On the evening of the 5th of March, 1770, an affray 
took place between the military quartered in Boston, 
and some citizens, which resulted in a loss of lives on 
both sides. On the following morning, a public meet- 
ing was called, and Samuel Adams addressed the as- 
sembly, with that impressive eloquence which was so 
peculiar to himself. The people, on this occasion, chose 
a committee to wait upon the lieutenant governor, to 
require that the troops be immediately withdrawn from 
the town. The mission, however, proved unsuccessful, 
and another resolution was immediately adopted, that a 
new committee he chosen to wait a second time upon 
governor Hutchinson, for the purpose of conveying the 
sense of the meeting in a more peremptory manner. 



ADAMS. 49 

Mr. Adams acted as chairman. They waited on the 
lieutenant governor, and communicated this last vote 
of the town ; and, in a speech of some length, Mr. 
Adams stated the danger of keeping the troops longer in 
the capital, fully proving the illegality of the act itself; 
and enumerating the fatal consequences that would 
ensue, if he refused an immediate compliance with the 
vote. Lieutenant governor Hutchinson, with his usual 
prevarication, replied, and roundly asserted, that there 
was no illegality in the measure ; and repeated, that the 
troops were not subject to his authority, but that he 
would direct the removal of the twenty-ninth regiment. 
Mr. Adams again rose. The magnitude of the subject, 
and the manner in which it was treated by lieutenant 
governor Hutchinson, had now roused the impetuous 
feelings of his patriotic soul. With indignation strongly 
expressed in his countenance, and in a firm, resolute, 
and commanding manner, he replied, " that it was well 
known, that, acting as governor of the province, he was, 
by its charter, the commander in chief of his n^ajesty's 
military and naval forces, and as such, the troops were 
subject to his orders ; and if he had the power io remove 
one regiment, he had the power to remove both, and 
nothing short of this would satisfy the people, and it 
was at his pei il, if the vote of the town w^as not imme- 
diately complied with, and if it be longer delayed, he, 
alone, must be answerable for the fatal consequences 
that would ensue." This prodiiced a momentary si- 
lence. It was now dark, and the people were waiting 
in anxious suspense for the report of the committee. 
A conference in whispers followed between lieutenant 
governor Hutchinson and colonel Dalrymple. The for- 
mer, finding himself so closely pressed, and the fallacy 
and absurdity of his arguments thus glaringly exposed, 
yielded up his positions, and gave his consent to the 
removal of both regiments ; and colonel Dalrymple 
pledged his word of honour, that he would begin his 
preparations in the morning, and that there should be 
no unnecessary delay, until the whole of both regiments 
were removed to the castle. 

At a very early period of the controversy between the 
mother country and the colonies, Mr, Adams was im- 



50 ADA Mi.. 

pressed with the importance of establishing committees! 
of correspondence. In 1766, he made some suggestions 
on this subject in a letter to a friend in South Carolina; 
but it was found to be either impracticable or inexpe- 
dient before the year 1772, when it was first adopted by- 
Massachusetts, on a motion of Mr. Adams at a public 
town meeting in Boston. This plan was followed by 
all the provinces. Mr. Adams's private letters may 
have advanced this important work. In a letter to 
Richard Henry Lee, Esq. of Virginia, which, unfortu- 
nately is without a date, is the following remark : " I 
would propose it for your consideration, whether the 
establishment of committees of correspondence among 
the several towns in every colony, would not tend to 
promote the general union upon which the security of 
the whole depends. " It will be remembered that the 
resolutions for the establishment of this institution in 
Virginia, were passed March 12, 1773, which was more 
than four months subsequently to the time it had been 
formed in Boston. 

Every method had been tried to induce Mr. Adams 
to abandon the cause of his country, which he had sup- 
ported with so much zeal, courage, and ability. Threats 
and caresses had proved equally unavailing. Prior to 
this time there is no certain proof that any direct at- 
tempt was made upon his virtue and integrity, although 
a report had been publicly and freely circulated, that it 
had been unsuccessfully tried by governor Bernard. 
Hutchinson knew him too well to make the attempt. 
But governor Gage was empowered to make the expe- 
riment. He sent to him a conHdential and verbal mes- 
sage by colonel Fenton, who waited upon Mr. Adams, 
and after the customary salutations, he stated the object 
of his visit. He said that an adjustment of the disputes 
which existed between England and the colonies, and a 
reconciliation, was very desirable, as well as important 
to the interests of both. That he was authorized from 
governor Gage to assure him, that he had been empow- 
ered to confer upon him such benoiics as would be satis- 
factory, upon the condition, that he would engage to 
cease in his opposition to the measures of government. 
Hp also observed, that it was the advice of governor 



ADAMS. ■ 51 

Gage, to him, not to incur the further displeasure of his 
majesty ; that his conduct had been such as made him 
liable to the penalties of an act of Henry VIII. by which 
persons could be sent to England for trial of treason, or 
misprision of treason, at the discretion of a governor of 
a province, but by changing his political course, he 
would not only receive great personal advantages, but 
would thereby make his peace with the king. Mr. 
Adams listened with apparent interest to this recital. 
He asked colonel Fenton if he would truly deliver his 
reply as it should be given. After some hesitation he 
assented. Mr. Adams required his word of honour, 
which he pledged. 

Then rising from his chair, and assuming a deter- 
mined manner, he replied, '* I trust I have long since 
made my peace with the king of kings. No personal 
consideration shall induce me to abandon the righteous 
cause of my country. Tell governor Gage, it is the 
ADVICE OF Samuel Adams to him, no longer to insult 
the feelings of an exasperated people. " 

With a full sense of his own perilous situation, mark- 
ed out an object of ministerial vengeance, labouring 
under severe pecuniary embarrassment, but fearless of 
consequences, he steadily pursued the great object of his 
soul, the liberty of the people. 

The time required bold and inflexible measures. 
Common distress required common counsel. The as- 
pect was apalling to some of the most decided patriots 
of the day. The severity of punishment which was in- 
flicted on the people of Boston, by the power of Eng- 
land, produced a melancholy sadness on the friends of 
American freedom. The Massachusetts house of As- 
sembly was then in session at Salem. A committee of 
that body was chosen to consider and report the state 
of the province. Mr. Adams, it is said, observed, that 
some of the committee were foi* mild measures, which 
he judged no way suited to the present emergency. He 
conferred with Mr. Warren, of Plymouth, upon the ne- 
cessity of spirited measures, and then said, " do you keep 
the committee in play, and I will go and make a caucus 
by the time the evening arrives, and do you meet me." 
Mr. Adams secured a meeting of about five principal 



52 ADAMS. 

members of the house at the time specified, and repeat- 
ed his endeavours for the second and third nig^hts, when 
the number amounted to more than thirty. The friends 
of the administration knew nothing; of the matter. The 
popular leaders took the sense of the members in a pri- 
vate way, and found that they would be able to carry 
their scheme by a sufficient majority. They had their 
whole plan completed, prepared their resolutions, and 
then determined to bring the business forward; but, be- 
fore they commenced, the door-keeper was ordered to 
let no person in, or suffer any one to depart. The sub- 
jects for discussion were then introduced by Mr. Adams, 
with his usual eloquence on such great occasions. He was 
chairman of the committee, and reported the resolutions 
for the appointment of delegates to a general cong-ress 
to be convened at Philadelphia, to consult on the general 
safety of America. This report was received by sur- 
prise and astonishment by the administration party. 
Such was the apprehension of some, that they were ap- 
parently desirous to desert the question. The door- 
keeper seemed uneasy at his charge, and wavering with 
regard to the performance of the duty assigned to him. 
At this critical juncture, Mr. Adams relieved him, by 
taking the key and keeping it himself. The resolutions 
were passed, five delegates, consisting of Samuel Adams, 
Thomas Gushing, Robert Treat Paine, John Adams^ 
and James Bowdoin, were appointed, the expense was 
estimated, and funds were voted for the payment. Be- 
fore the business was finally closed, a member made a 
plea of indisposition, and was allowed to leave the house. 
This person went directly to the governor, and informed 
him of their high-handed proceedings. The governor 
immediately sent his secretary to dissolve the assembly, 
who found the door locked. He demanded entrance, 
but was answered, that his desire could not be complied 
with, until some im|»ortant business, then before the 
house, was concluded. Finding every method to gain 
admission ineffectual, 'he read the order on the 
stairs for an immediate dissolution of the assembly. 
The order, however, was disregarded by the house. 
They continued their deliberations, passed all their m- 



AIDAMS. 53 

tended measures, and then obeyed the mandate for dis- 
solution. 

The battle of Lexington, which took place on the I9th 
of April, 1775, now annoimced the commencement of 
the revolutionary war. Adams and Hancock were in 
Lexington the very night the British troops left Boston. 
To gain possession of the papers of Messrs. Adams and 
Hancock, who lodged together in the village, was one of 
the motives, it is said, of the expedition which led to that 
memorable conflict. The design, though covered with 
great secrecy, was anticipated, and the victims escaped 
upon the entrance of their habitation by the British 
troops. General Joseph Warren, who was the first vic- 
tim of rank who fell in the revolutionary contest with 
Great Britain, despatched an express, at ten o'clock at 
night, to Adams and Hancock, to warn them of their 
danger. A friend of Mr. Adams's spread a report that 
he spoke Avith pleasure on the occurrences of the 19th 
of April. "It is a fine day," said he, walking in the 
field after the day dawned. "Very pleasant," answered 
one of his companions, supposing him to be contem- 
plating the beauties of the sky. " I mean," he replied, 
"this day is a glorious day for America." So fear- 
less was he of consequences, so intrepid was he in the 
midst of danger, so eager to look forward to the lustre 
of events that would succeed the gloom which then in- 
volved the minds of the people. Mr. Adams had been 
a member of the continental congress the preceding 
year. In this situation he rendered the most important 
services to his country. His eloquence was well adapted 
to the times in which he lived. The energy of his lan- 
guage corresponded with the firmness and vigour of 
his mind. His heart glowed with the feelings of a 
patriot, and his eloquence was simple, majestic, and per- 
suasive. He was one of the most efficient members of 
congress. He possessed keen penetration, unshaken 
fortitude, and permanent decision. 

After many imavailing efforts, both by threats and 
promises, to allure this inflexible patriot from his de- 
votion to the sacred cause of independence, governor 
Gage, at length, on the 12th of June, issued that memo- 
E 2 



54 ADAMS. 

rable proclamation, of which the following is an extract. 
"In this exigency of complicated calamities, I avail 
myself of the last effort within the bounds of my duty, 
to spare the further effusion of blood, to offer, and I do 
hereby in his majesty's name offer and promise, his 
most gracious pardon to all persons, who shall forth- 
with lay down their arms, and return to the duties of 
peaceable subjects, excepting only from the benefit of 
such pardon, Samuel Adams^ and John Hancock^ whose 
offences are of too flagitious a nature to admit of any 
other consideration than that of condign punishment." 
This was a diploma, conferring greater honours on the 
individuals, than any other which was within the power 
of his Britannic majesty to bestow. 

In a letter dated April, 1776, at Philadelphia, while he 
was in congress, to major Hawley, of Massachusetts, he 
said, '' I am perfectly satisfied of the necessity of a pub- 
lic and explicit declaration of independence. I cannot 
conceive, what good reason can be assigned against it. 
Will it widen the breach? This would be a strange 
question after v/e have raised armies and fought battles 
with the British troops; set up an American navy, per- 
mitted the inhabitants of these colonies to fit out armed 
vessels to capture the ships, &c. belonging to any of the 
inhabitants of Great Britain; declaring them the ene- 
mies of the United Colonies, and torn into shivers their 
acts of trade, by allowing commerce, subject to regula- 
tions to be made by ourselves, with the people of all 
countries, except such as are subject to the British king. 
It cannot, surely, after all this, be imagined, that we 
consider ourselves, or mean to be considered by others, 
in any other state, than that of independence." 

In another letter to James Warren, Esq. dated Balti- 
more, December 31, 1776, he said, "I assure you, busi- 
ness has been done since we came to this place more to my 
satisfaction than any or every thing done before, except- 
ing the Declaration of Independence, which should have 
been made immediately after the 19th of April, 1775." 

The character of Mr. Adams had become celebrated 
in foreign countries. In 1773, he had been chosen a 
mem,ber of the society of the bill of rights in Loudon; 



ADAMS. 55 

and in 1774, John Adams and doctor Joseph Warren 
were elected on his nomination. 

Mr. Adams was a member of the continental cong^ress 
when the declaration of independence was made. He 
was a warm and ardent friend of that measure, and sup- 
ported it with great zeal. 

In the year 1777, our patriots encountered many diffi- 
culties. It was at this critical juncture, after Congress 
had resolved to adjourn from Philadelphia to Lancaster, 
that some of the leading members accidentally met in 
company with each other. A conversation in mutual 
confidence ensued. Mr. Adams, who was one of the 
number, was cheerful and undismayed at the aspect of 
affairs, while the countenances of his friends were 
strongly marked with the desponding feelings of their 
hearts. The conversation naturally turned upon the 
subject which most engaged their feelings. Each took 
occasion to express his opinions on the situation of the 
public cause. Mr. Adams listened in silence till they 
had finished. He then said, " Gentlemen, your spirits 
appear to be heavily oppressed with our public calami- 
ties. I hope you do not despair of our final success!" 
It was answered, " that the chance was desperate." Mr. 
Adams replied, " if this be our language, it is so, indeed. 
If WE wear long faces, they will become fashionable. 
Let us banish such feelings, and show a spirit that will 
keep alive the confidence of the people. Better tidings 
will soon arrive. Our cause is just and righteous, and 
we shall never be abandoned by Heaven while we show 
ourselves worthy of its aid and protection." 

At this time there were but twenty-eight of the mem- 
bers of Congress present at Philadelphia. Mr. Adams 
said, " that this was the smallest, but the truest Con- 
gress they ever had." 

But a few days had elapsed, when the news arrived of 
the glorious success at Saratoga, M'hich gave a new 
complexion to our aft airs, and confidence to our hopes. 

Soon after this, lord Howe, the earl of Carlisle, and 
Mr. Eden, arrived as commissioners to treat for peace, 
under lord North's conciliatory proposition. Mr. 
Adams was one of the committee chosen by congress to 



56 ADAMS. 

draught an answer to their letter. In this, it is related, 
" that congress will readily attend to such terms of 
peace, as may consist with the honour of an independent 
nation." 

In 1779, Samuel Adams was placed, by the state con- 
vention, on a committee, to prepare and report a form of 
government for Massachusetts. By this committee he 
and John Adams were appointed a sub-committee to 
furnish a draught of the constitution. The draught 
produced by them was reported to the convention, and, 
after some amendments, accepted. The address of the 
convention to the people was jointly written by them. 

In 1787, he was chosen a member of the Massachu- 
setts convention for the ratification of the constitution 
of the United States. He had some objections to it in 
its reported form; the principal of v/hich was to that 
article which rendered the several states amenable to the 
courts of the nation. He thought that this would reduce 
them to mere corporations. There was a very power- 
ful opposition to it, and some of its most zealous friends 
and supporters were fearful that it would not be ac- 
cepted. 

Mr. Adams had not then given his sentiments upon 
it in the convention, but regularly attended the debates. 
Some of the leading advocates waited upon Mr. Adams 
to ascertain his opinions and wishes, in a private man- 
ner. Mr. Adams stated his objections, and stated that 
he should not give it his support, unless certain amend- 
ments were recommended to be adopted. These he 
enumerated. Mr. Adams prepared his amendments, 
which were brought before the convention, and referred 
to a committee, who made some inconsiderable altera- 
tions, with which the constitution was accepted. Some 
of these were afterwards agreed to as amendments, and 
form, at present, a part of that instrument. 

In 1789, he was elected lieutenant governor of the 
state of Massachusetts, and continued to fill that office 
till 1794, when he was chosen governor of that state. 
He was annually re-elected till 1797, when, oppressed 
with years and bodily infirmities, he declined being 
again a candidate, and retired to private life. 

After many years of incessant exertion, employed in 



ADAM 3. S7 

the establishment of the independence of America, he 
died on the 3d of October, 1 803, in the 82d year of his age, 
in indigent circumstances. 

Though poor, he possessed a lofty and incorruptible 
spirit, and looked with disregard upon riches, if not 
with contempt ; while at the same time he did not at- 
tempt to disguise that reputation and popular influence 
were the great objects of his ambition. 

His private morals were pure, his manners grave and 
austere, and his conversation, which generally turned on 
public characters and events, bold, decided, and some- 
times coarse. Besides the occurrences of the passing 
day, he is said to have had three topics of conversation 
on which he delighted to expatiate, and to have always 
dwelt upon with great earnestness ; British oppression, 
the manners, laws, and customs of New England, and 
the importance to every republican government, of pub- 
lic schools for the instruction of the whole population 
of the state. 

The person of Samel Adams was of the middle size. 
His countenance was a true index of his mind, and pos- 
sessed those lofty and elevated characteristics, which 
are always found to accompany true greatness. 
, He was a steady professor of the Christian religion, 
and uniformly attended public worship. His family de- 
votions were regularly performed, and his morality was 
never impeached. 

In his manners and deportment, he was sincere and 
unaffected ; in conversation, pleasing and instructive ; 
and in his friendships, steadfast and affectionate. 

His revolutionary labours were not surpassed by those 
of any individual. From the commencement of the dis- 
pute with Great Britain, he was incessantly employed 
in public service ; opposing at one time, the supremacy 
of " parliament in all cases ;" taking the lead in ques- 
tions of controverted policy with the royal governors ; 
writing state papers from 1765 to 1774 ; in planning and 
organizing clubs and committees ; haranguing in town 
meetings, or filling the columns of public prints adapted 
to the spirit and temper of the times. In addition to 
these occupations, he maintained an extensive and labo- 



58 ADAMS. 

rious correspondence with the friends of American free- 
dom in Great Britain and in the provinces. 

His private habits, which were simple, frugal, and 
unostentatious, led him to despise the luxury and parade 
affected by the crown officers ; and his detestation of 
royalty, and privileged classes, which no man could 
have felt more deeply, stimulated him to persevere in a 
course, which he conscientiously believed to be his duty 
to pursue, for the welfare of his country. 

No man was more intrepid and dauntless, when en- 
compassed by dangers, or more calm and unmoved amid 
public disasters and adverse fortune. His bold and 
daring conduct and language, subjected him to great 
personal hazards. Had any fatal event occurred to our 
country, by which she had fallen in her struggle for 
liberty, Samuel Adams would have been the first victim 
of ministerial vengeance. His blood would have been 
first shed as a sacrifice on the altar of tyranny, for the 
noble magnanimity and independence, with which he 
defended the cause of freedom. But such was his firm- 
ness, that he would have met death with as much com- 
posure, as he regarded it with unconcern. 

His writings were numerous, and much distinguished 
for their elegance and fervour; but unfortunately the 
greater part of them have been lost, or so distributed, as 
to render their collection impossible. 

He was the author of a letter to the earl of Hillsbo- 
rough; of many political essays directed against the ad- 
ministration of governor Shirley; of a letter in answer 
to Thomas Paine, in defence of Christianity, and of an 
oration published in the year 1776. Four letters of his 
correspondence on government, are extant, and were 
published in a pamphlet form in 1800. 

Mr. Adams's eloquence was of a peculiar character. 
His language was pure, concise, and impressive. He 
was more logical than figurative. His arguments were 
addressed rather to the understanding, than to the feel- 
ings ; yet he always engaged the deepest attention of his 
audience. On ordinary occasions, there was nothing 
remarkable in his speeches ; but, on great questions, 
when his own feelings were interested, he would com- 



JOIIK ADAMS. 59 

bine every thing ^reat in oratory. In the language of 
an elegant writer, the great qualities of his mind were 
fully displayed, in proportion as the field for their exer- 
tion was extended ; and the energy of his language was 
not inferior to the depth of his mind. It was an elo- 
quence admirably adapted to the age in which he flour- 
ished, and exactly calculated to attain the object of his 
pursuit. It may well be described in the language of 
the poet, "thoughts which breathe, and words which 
burn." An eloquence, not consisting of theatrical ges- 
ture, but of the sublime enthusiasm and ardour of patri- 
otism; an eloquence, to which his fellow-citizens listened 
with applause and rapture ; and little inferior to the best 
models of antiquity for simplicity, majesty, and per- 
suasion. 

The consideration of the character of Samuel Adams, 
when taken in connexion with the uncommon degree of 
popularity which his name had obtained in this coun- 
try, may suggest an important moral lesson to those of 
our youth, whom a generous ambition incites to seek 
the temple of glory through the thorny paths of politi- 
cal strife. Let them compare him with men confessedly 
very far his superiors in every gift of intellect, of edu- 
cation, and of fortune: with those who have governed 
empires, and swayed the fate of nations ; and then let 
them consider how poor and how limited is their fame, 
when placed in competition with that of this humble 
patriot. The memory of those men, tarnished as it is 
by the history of their profligacy, their corruption, and 
their crimes, is preserved only among the advocates 
and slaves of legitimacy, while the name of Samuel 
Adams is enrolled among the IxMiefactors of his country, 
and repeated with respect and gratitud-- by the lowest 
citizens of a free state. 



•"*« @ »««— 



ADAMS, John. — In the enjoyment of our free and 
happy institutions, and of the prosperity which pervades 
every portion of this irnmense republic, the rich and ripe 



60 JOHN ADAMS. 

fruits of bur national independence, we can never forget 
those from whose toils, and sufferings, and sacrifices 
these inestimable blessings were derived. There is 
no merit in being the friend of a flourishing and pow- 
erful people ; in being patriots in a country abounding 
with all the good a just and reasonable man can desire; 
but it is in the dark season of adversity, in the hour 
of peril and strife, when the oppressor stretches his 
sword over the land ; when to love and serve your country 
is to be guilty of treason ; when to defend her rights 
is to forfeit your blood ; it is in such trials, that the 
patriot, who braves the storm and defies its dangers, 
becomes a great example of virtue, and the object of 
everlasting gratitude and praise. 

Such M^ere the founders of American liberty ; and, 
among them, John Adams was pre-eminent in energy, 
constancy, wisdom and usefulness. He was with the 
first to take his stand against the oppression of his 
country ; with the wisest in counselling the means of suc- 
cess; with the boldest in projecting measures of resist- 
ance; with the most ardent and eloquent in maintaining 
the sacred principles he had adopted ; and v/ith the most 
steady and unchangeable, through all the vicissitudes of 
a long and doubtful war. His courage never faltered; 
his purpose never wavered; his efforts never relaxed. 
The same from the beginning to the end of the conflict; 
the same in the most gloomy as in the brightest days of 
the revolution, he exhibited a firm example of inflexi- 
ble integrity, extraordinary intellectual powers and re- 
sources, and dauntless devotion to his country. 

John Adams was born at Quincy, a few miles distant 
from Boston, in the state of Massachusetts, on the 19th 
day of October, 1735. His ancestors were puritans, and 
had emigrated, at an early period, from England, and 
settled in Massachusetts. His education was carefully 
attended to, and in 1755 he graduated at Harvard col- 
lege. Three years afterwards, he was admitted to the 
bar, and commenced business in his native place, but 
soon removed to Boston, and engaged arduously in the 
duties of his profession. An occasion here offered to 
exhibit the peculiar firmness of his character in the per- 
formance of whatever he believed to be his duty, in 



JOHN ADAMS. 61 

undertaking the defence of the British officers and soldiers 
engaged in the memorable transactions of the 5th of 
March, 1770. He embarked in the cause, when his 
fellow citizens were highly exasperated against the ac- 
cused, and by a powerful display of learning, eloquence, 
and forensic skill, procured their acquittal : and obtain- 
ed for his country a noble reputation for the impartiality 
and mildness with which her laws were administered 
in a case calculated to excite the keenest resentments 
and prejudices. 

A more important scene was preparing, in which he 
was to act a first part, and in which he would have full 
employment for all his talents, and a severe exercise of 
all his virtues. The cares of his profession had not 
taken his exclusive attention. The invaded rights of his 
country, and the growing discontents with the conduct 
of the British government, deeply interested him. His 
free and ardent spirit could not be quiet while such 
things were going on. In 1765, he published a bold 
and energetic dissertation, in explanation and support of 
the claims and privileges of the colonies; in which he 
earnestly called upon the people to make themselves 
acquainted with their rights ; he invoked all having the 
ability, particularly the clergy and the bar, " to expose 
the insidious designs of arbitrary power ; to resist its 
approaches, and be persuaded that there was a settled 
design on foot to enslave all America." In 1770, Mr. 
Adams was elected a representative in the assembly of 
Massachusetts. In 1773 and 1774, he was chosen a coun- 
sellor by the general court ; but rejected by the gover- 
nors, who feared the influence of one who had taken a 
deep interest in the controversy between the colony and 
Great Britain, and was devoting his time and talents to 
the cause- 

The great cause of emancipation was spreading and 
strengthening through the colonies; and the unjust and 
unwise arrogance and severity of the mother country, 
naturally hastened the catastrophe. That this great 
continent could not have always hung dependant on a 
small island, at the distance of three thousand miles, 
may be presumed ; but the separation was quickened by 
the overweening and contemptuous confidence of power 



62 JOHxV ADAMS. 

on the one side, and a noble and sensitive spirit of free- 
dom on the other. The crisis came rapidly on. In June, 
1774, a general congress of delegates from all the colo- 
nies was agreed to; and Mr. Adams was one of those 
chosen by Massachusetts. This congress assembled at 
Philadelphia in September, 1774. The high character 
of this assembly of patriots, for wisdom, solidity, firm- 
ness, and discretion, has been justly celebrated even 
by the greatest names of Europe ; and, perhaps, was 
never surpassed. The eulogium of lord Chatham upon 
it, is well known. It is designated by the emphatic ap- 
pellation of the first Congress. In such a body Mr. 
Adams became at once distinguished for talents, zeal, 
and usefulness; taking a leading part in every important 
measure. It was truly said of him, that, " in patriotic 
zeal and devotion to the public cause, he had no supe- 
rior in that immortal senate. He sat in council with 
heroes and sages, and was himself the exciting spirit 
of the assembly." In the days of the darkest gloom, 
when the hopes of freedom and humanity seemed to be 
sinking into despair and death, Mr. Adams stood un- 
moved; he would yield nothing to timidity; he made no 
personal calculations of caution; he disdained any com- 
promise with oppression; but marched steadily on to his 
purpose, although the path was beset with danger and 
ruin to himself, and no sagacity could foresee the issue. 
Many of our wise and honest patriots doubted on the 
question of independence; and the weak shrunk from it 
with instinctive terror. The courage of Mr. Adams, his 
confidence in his country and her cause, bore him brave- 
ly through the trial. He animated others with his ar- 
dour ; he roused them by his eloquence; he assured 
them by his confidence, and convinced them by his ar- 
guments. The deed was done; the solemn declaration 
was made, which placed these United States in the rank 
of the independent nations of the earth. This sublime 
act, which struck the world with admiration, gave birth 
to a great and prosperous empire ; prepared an asylum 
for the oppressed and distressed of every people ; laid, 
deep and strong, the foundations of civil and religious 
liberty ; and created a bright example of the improve- 
ment to which a people may rapidly advanc'^, whose 



JOHN ADAMS. 65 

genius and industry are unfettered by unjust restraints 
and ruinous exactions. In the accomplishment of these 
magnificent results, no individual had a greater share 
than Mr. Adams. 

As our contest with Great Britain assumed the cha- 
racter of a regular and protracted war, and lost that 
of a short-lived insurrection, to be immediately strangled 
by force, or conciliated by compromise, it became in- 
dispensable to engage some powerful European ally to 
aid us in the strife. France was naturally looked to, not 
only for her ability to give us support, but from her 
known jealousy of England, and her readiness to cherish 
every effort to diminish her pov/er. In November, 1777, 
Mr. Adams was appointed a commissioner to the court 
of France, to solicit her patronage. This delicate and 
difficult office he performed to the entire satisfaction of 
congress. On his return to America in 1779, he was 
elected a inember, and, of course, an active and leading 
one, of the convention which framed the constitution of 
Massachusetts ; a considerable part of which was draft- 
ed by him. In August of the same year, he was again 
sent to Europe as a commissioner to negociate a general 
peace; and did not return to his country until her inde- 
pendence was consummated and secured by the treaty 
•of 1783. In the mean time he was labouring, with in- 
•defatigable zeal and fidelity, with the powers of Europe, 
to obtain their co-operation in the great cause of his 
country; making, in 1781, a favourable treaty with the 
Dutch provinces. In 1780, he received a vote of thanks 
from congress for his services in Europe. In the fol- 
lowing year he was associated with Franklin, Jefferson, 
and others, in a plenipotentiary commission, for con- 
cluding treaties with several European powers. He as- 
sisted, with great distinction, and his usual decision and 
sagacity, in making the treaty of 1783 with Great Bri- 
tain, which restored us to peace, and terminated, for ever,' 
her claims and power over this country. 

When the United States were thus liberated from 
foreign shackles, and stood among the nations on the 
basis of her own strength and resources, Mr. Adams 
was the first minister appointed to London. He was 
there to stand in the presence of the monarch he had 



64 JOHN ADAMS. 

SO deeply injured, and to meet the gaze of a court which 
well knew how much he had contributed to dismem- 
ber their empire; and pluck the fairest jewel from 
the crown. But he enjoyed a distinction even more 
remarkable than this; he was the first minister that, 
may we not say, had ever appeared as the representa- 
tive of a republic^ in its full and just sense. We have 
seen, in ancient times, tumultuous assemblages of a 
licentious populace; we have seen the iron rule of a 
selfish aristocracy, and the factious power of unprinci- 
pled demagogues, called republics ; and we have seen in 
modern Europe, governments of the same essences, call- 
ed republics; but these United States have presented to 
the world the first fair and genuine example of a repre- 
sentative republic, where the people are acknowledged 
and felt as the legitimate source of power, but are not 
uncontrolled in its exercise; where they govern all, but 
are themselves governed by fixed decrees ; moving in a 
system formed and regulated by their own will, pre- 
serving even themselves from the dangers of sudden 
impulses and unjust caprices; M^here the law is given, 
not by the passions of the people, but by their deliberate 
will, and which, M-^hen given, is the rule of conduct for 
all alike, and binds the hands that made it, until annulled 
bv the same power acting in the same course of regu- 
lated legislation. Such a republic, such a people, it was 
the high destiny of Mr. Adams to represent, forthefirst 
time after their independent sovereignty was fully and 
irrevocably acknowledged and established. 

In the year 1787, Mr. Adams, at his own request, was 
permitted to return home; and a vote of thanks was 
passed for him in congress, of a character beyond the 
ordinary language of compliment. In September, 1787, 
that which may well be styled the grand convention 
of the United States, promulgated their scheme of go- 
vernment; which, in due time, was adopted by the peo- 
ple, and immediately put into operation. In 1789, Mr. 
Adams was elected the first vice-president under this 
constitution ; and he was re-elected to the same office in 
1793. On the retirement of general Washington from 
the presidency in 1797, Mr. Adams succeeded him in 
that dignified station, which he filled for the term of four 



ARNOLD. 65 

years; and then, in 1801, retired to his family residence 
near Boston, devoting his life " to the culture of patriot- 
ism, charity, and benevolence;" and declining the re- 
peated calls of his fellow-citizens to high official sta- 
tions. In 1820, however, he consented to serve as a 
member of the convention for revising the constitution 
of Massachusetts, and was elected president thereof by 
nearly an unanimous vote; but he declined the chair on 
account of his great age. He, nevertheless, took an in- 
teresting and useful part in the deliberations and debates 
of that body. 

On the Ath of July ^ 1826, this great man, this enlight- 
ened sage, this true and incorruptible patriot, died at 
Quincy, leaving his beloved country great, prosperous, 
and happy, with the exalted consciousness that he had, 
from his youth, been a constant and efficient instrument 
in bringing her to this glorious and envied condition. 
The American revolution is a bright epoch in the his- 
tory of the world ; and John Adams will for ever stand 
a prominent figure in the foreground of this sublime 
scene. 

May his fame, and the happiness of his country, live 
together, as they have grown together, and be perpetual. 



ARNOLD, Benedict, a major-general in the Ame- 
rican army, during the revolutionary war, and infamous 
for deserting the cause of his country, was early chosen 
captain of a volunteer company in New Haven, Connec- 
ticut, where he lived. After hearing of the battle of 
Lexington, he immediately marched, with his company, 
for the American head quarters, and reached Cam- 
bridge, April 29, 1775. 

He immediately waited on the Massachusetts com- 
mittee of safety, and informed them of the defenceless 
state of Ticonderoga. The committee appointed him 
a colonel, and commissioned him to raise four hundred 
men, and to take that fortress- He proceeded directly 
to Vermont, and when he arrived at Castleton was 
p 2 



66 ARNOLD. 

attended by one servant only. Here he joined -colonel 
Alien, and on the 10th of May the fortress was taken. 

In the fall of 1775, he was sent by the commander in 
chief to penetrate through the wilderness of the district of 
Maine, into Canada. On the 1 6th of September, he com- 
menced his march with about one thousand men, consist- 
ing of New England infantry, some volunteers, a com- 
pany of artillery, and three companies of riflemen. One 
division was obliged to return,orit would have perished 
by hunger. After sustaining almost incredible hard- 
ships, he in six v/eeks arrived at Point Levi, opposite 
Quebec. The appearance of an army, emerging from 
the wilderness, threv/ the city into the greatest conster- 
nation. In this moment of surprise, Arnold might pro- 
bably have become master of the place, but the small 
craft and boats in the river were removed out of his 
reach. 

It seems that his approach was not altogether unex- 
pected. He had imprudently, a number of days before, 
sent forward a letter to a friend by an Indian, who be- 
trayed him. A delay of several days on account of the 
difficulty of passing the river was inevitable, and the 
critical moment was lost. 

On the 14th of November he crossed the St. Law- 
rence in the night; and, ascending the precipice, which 
Wolfe had climbed before him, formed his small corps 
on the height, near the memorable plains of Abraham. 
With only about seven hundred men, one-third of whose 
muskets had been rendered useless in the march through 
the wilderness, success could not be expected. After 
parading some days on the heights, near the town, and 
sending two flags to summon the inhabitants, he retired 
to Point aux Trembles, twenty miles above Quebec, and 
there waited the arrival of Montgomery, who joined 
him on the first of December. The city was immedi- 
ately besieged, but the best measures had been taken for 
its defence. On the morning of the last day of the 
year, an assault was made on the one side of the city 
by Montgomery, who was killed. At the same time, 
colonel Arnold, at the head of about three hundred 
and fifty men, made a desperate attack on the opposite 
side. Advancing with the utmost intrepidity along the 



ARNOLD. 6T 

St. Charles^ through a narrow path, exposed to an in- 
cessant fire of grape shot and musketry, as he ap- 
proached the first barrier he received a musket ball in 
the leg, which shattered the bone ; and he was carried 
oflf to the camp. Though the attack was unsuccessful, 
the blockade of Quebec was continued till May, 1776, 
when the army, which was in no condition to risk an 
assault, was removed to a more defensible position. 
Arnold was compelled to relinquish one post after 
another, till the 18th of June, when he quitted Canada. 
After this period, he exhibited great bravery in the 
command of the American fleet on lake Champlain. 

In August, 1777, he relieved fort Schuyler, under the 
command of colonel Gansevoort, which was invested by 
colonel St. Leger, with an army of from fifteen to 
eighteen hundred men. In the battle, near Stillwater, 
September 19th, he conducted himself with his usual 
intrepidity, being engaged incessantly for four hours. 
In the action of October 7th, after the British had been 
driven into the lines, Arnold pressed forward, and under 
a tremendous fire, assaulted their works from right to 
left. The intrenchments were at length forced, and 
with a few men he actually entered the works; but his 
horse being killed, and he himself badly wounded in the 
leg, he found it necessary to withdraw, and, as it was 
now almost dark, to desist from the attack. 

Being rendered unfit for active service in consequence 
of his wound, after the recovery of Philadelphia, he was 
appointed to the command of the American garrison. 
When he entered the city, he made the house of gover- 
nor Penn, the best house in the city, his head quarters. 
This he furnished in a very costly manner, and lived far 
beyond his income. He had wasted the plunder, which 
he had seized at Montreal, in his retreat from Canada; 
and at Philadelphia, he was determined to make new 
acquisitions. He laid his hands on every thing in the 
city, which could be considered as the property of those 
who were unfriendly to the cause of his country. He 
was charged with oppression, extortion, and enormous 
charges upon the public, in his accounts ; and with ap- 
plying the public money and property to his own private 
use. Such was his conduct, that he drew upon himself 



66 ARVOLD. 

the odium of the inhabitants, not only of the city, but 
of the province in general. He was engaged in trading 
speculations, and had shares in several privateers, but 
was unsuccessful. 

From the judgment of the commissioners, who had 
been appointed to inspect his accounts, and who had 
rejected above half the amount of his demands, he ap- 
pealed to congress; and they appointed a committee of 
their own body to examine and settle the business. The 
committee confirmed the report of the commissioners, 
and thought they had allowed him more than he had 
any right to expect or demand. By these disappoint- 
ments he became irritated, and he gave full scope to his 
resentment. His invectives against congress were not 
less violent, than those which he had before thrown out 
against the commissioners. He was, however, soon 
obliged to abide the judgment of a court-martial, upon 
the charges exhibited against him by the executive of 
Pennsylvania ; and he was subjected to the mortification 
of receiving a reprimand from Washington. His trial 
commenced in June, 1778, but such were the delays oc- 
casioned by the movements of the army, that it was not 
concluded until the 26th of January, 1779. The sen- 
tence of a reprimand was approved by congress, and was 
soon afterwards carried into execution. 

Such was the humiliation to which general Arnold 
was reduced, in consequence of yielding to the tempta- 
tions of pride and vanity, and indulging himself in the 
pleasures of a sumptuous table and expensive equipag^. 

From this time, probably, his proud spirit revolted 
from the cause of America. He turned his eyes to 
West Point, as an acquisition which would give value to 
treason, while its loss would inflict a mortal wound on 
his former friends. He addressed himself to the dele- 
gation of New York, in which state his reputation was 
peculiarly high ; and a member of congress from this 
state recommended him to Washington for the service 
which he desired. But this request could not be im- 
mediately complied with. The same application to the 
commander in chief was made not long afterwards 
through general Schuyler. Washington observed, that, 
as there was a prospect of an active campaign, he should 



ARXOLD. 69 

be gratified with the aid of general Arnold in the field, 
but intimated, at the same time, that he should receive 
the appointment requested, if it should be more pleasing 
to him. 

* Arnold, without discovering much solicitude, repaired 
to camp in the beginning of August, and renewed, in 
person, the solicitations which had been before indi- 
rectly made. He was now offered the command of the 
left wing of the army, which was advancing against New 
York, but he declined it, under the pretext, that in con- 
sequence of his wounds, he was unable to perform the 
active duties of the field. Without a suspicion of his 
patriotism, he was invested with the command of West 
Point. Previously to his soliciting this station, he had, 
in a letter to colonel Robinson, signified his change of 
principles, and his wish to restore himself to the favour 
of his prince, by some signal proof of his repentance. 
This letter opened to him a correspondence with sir 
Henry Clinton, the object of which was to concert the 
means of putting the important post which he com- 
manded into the possession of the British general. 

His plan, it is believed, was to have drawn the greater 
part of his army without the works, under the pretext 
of fighting the enemy in the defiles, and to have left un- 
guarded a designated pass, through which the assailants 
might securely approach, and surprise the fortress. 
His troops he intended to place, so that they would be 
compelled to surrender, or be cut in pieces. But just 
as his scheme was ripe for execution, the wise Disposer 
of events, who so often and so remarkably interposed in 
favour of the American cause, blasted his designs. 

Major Andre, adjutant-general of the British army, 
was selected as the person, to whom the maturing of 
Arnold's treason, and the arrangements for its execu- 
tion, should be committed. A correspondence was, for 
some time, carried on between them under a mercantile 
disguise, and the feigned names of Gustavus and An- 
derson ; and at length, to facilitate their communications, 
the Vulture sloop of war moved up the North river, and 
took a station convenient for the purpose, but not so 
near as to excite suspicion. An interview was agreed 
on, and in the night of September the 2 1st, 1780, he was 



70 



ARNOLD. 



taken in a boat, which was despatched for the purpose, 
and carried to the beach, without the posts of both ar- 
mies, under a pass for John Anderson. He met general 
Arnold at the house of a Mr. Smith. While the con- 
ference was yet unfinished, daylight approached; and to 
avoid the danger of discovery, it was proposed that he 
should remain concealed till the succeeding night. He 
is understood to have refused to be carried within the 
American posts, but the promise made him by Arnold, 
to respect this objection, was not observed. He was 
carried within them contrary to his wishes and against 
his knowledge. He continued with Arnold the suc- 
ceeding day, and when, on the following night, he pro- 
posed to return to the Vulture, the boatmen refused to 
carry him, because she had, during the day, shifted her 
station, in consequence of a gun that had been moved 
to the shore, and brought to bear upon her. This em- 
barrassing circumstance reduced him to the necessity 
of endeavouring to reach New York by land. Yielding, 
with reluctance, to the urgent representations of Arnold, 
he laid aside his regimentals, which he had hitherto 
worn under a surtout, and put on a plain suit of clothes; 
and, receiving a pass from the American general, 
authorizing him, under the feigned name of John An- 
derson, to proceed on the public service, to the White 
Plains, or lower, if he thought proper, he set out on his 
return. He had passed all the guards and posts on the 
road without suspicion, and was proceeding to New 
York in perfect security, when, on the 23d of September, 
one of the three militia-men, who were employed with 
others in scouting parties between the lines of the two 
armies, springing suddenly from his covert into the 
road, seized the reins of his bridle and stopped his horse. 
Instead of producing his pass, Andre, with a want of 
self-possession, which can be attributed only to a kind 
Providence, asked the man hastily, where he belonged ; 
and being answered, "to below," replied immediately, 
" and so do I.'* He then declared himself to be a British 
officer, on urgent business, and begged that he might 
not be detained. The other two militia-men coming up 
at this moment, he discovered his mistake; but it was 
too late to repair it. He oifered a purse of gold and his 



ARNOLD. 71 

gold watch, and said, " this will convince you that I am 
a g-entlenian, and if you will suffer me to pass, I will 
send to New York, and give you any amoimt you shall 
name^ in cash, or in dry goods; and," pointing to an 
adjacent wood, "you may keep me in that wood till it 
shall be delivered to you." All his offers, however, 
were rejected with disdain, and they declared that ten 
thousand guineas, or any other sum, would be no tempta- 
tion. It is to their virtue., no less glorious to America than 
Arnold's apostacy is disgraceful, that his detestable 
crimes were discovered. 

The militia-men, whose names were John Paulding, 
David Williams, and Isaac Vanwert, proceeded to search 
him. They found concealed in his boots, exact returns, 
in Arnold's hand-writing, of the state of the forces, 
ordnance, and defences of West Point and its depen- 
dencies; critical remarks on the works, and an esti- 
mate of the men ordinarily employed in them, with 
other interesting papers. Andre was carried before 
lieutenant-colonel Jameson, the officer commanding the 
scouting parties on the lines, and, regardless of himself, 
and only anxious for the safety of Arnold, he still main- 
tained the character which he had assumed, and re- 
quested Jameson to inform his commanding officer that 
Anderson was taken. An express was accordingly de- 
spatched, and the traitor, thus becoming acquainted with 
his danger, escaped. 

Major Andre, after his detection, was permitted to 
send a message to Arnold, to give him notice of his 
danger; and the traitor found opportunity to escape on 
board the Vulture, on the 25th of September, 1780, a 
few hours before the return of Washington, who had 
been absent on a journey to Hartford, Connecticut. It 
is supposed, however, that he would not have escaped, 
had not an express to the commander in chief, with an 
account of the capture of Andre, missed him, by taking 
a different road from the one which he travelled. 

Arnold, on the very day of his escape, wrote a letter 
to Washington, declaring that the love of his country 
had governed him in his late conduct, and requesting 
him to protect Mrs. Arnold. She was conveyed to her 
husband at New York, and his clothes and baggage, for 



73 ARNOLD. 

which he had written^ were transmitted to him. During 
the exertions which were made to rescue Andre from 
the destruction which threatened him, Arnold had the 
hardihood to interpose. He appealed to the humanity 
of the commander in chief, and then sought to intimidate 
him by stating the situation of many of the principal 
characters of South Carolina, who had forfeited their 
lives, but had hitherto been spared through the clemency 
of the British general. This clemency, he said, could 
no longer, in justice, be extended to them, should major 
Andre suffer. 

When Arnold's treason was known at Philadelphia, 
an artist of that city constructed an effigy of him, large 
as life, and seated in a cart, with the figure of the devil 
at his elbow, holding a lantern up to the face of the trai- 
tor, to show him to the people, having his name and 
crime in capital letters. The cart was paraded the 
whole evening through the streets of the city, with 
drums and fifes playing the rogue's march, with other 
marks of infaniy, and was attended by a vast concourse 
of people. The effigy was finally hanged for the want 
of the original, and then committed to the flames. Yet 
this is the man on whom the British bestowed ten thou- 
sand pounds sterling as the price of his treason, and 
appointed to the rank of brigadier-general in their ser- 
vice. It could scarcely be imagined that there was an 
officer of honour left in that army, who would debase 
himself and his commission by serving under or rank- 
ing with Benedict Arnold! 

Arnold preserved the rank of brigadier-general 
throughout the war. Yet he must have been held in 
contempt and detestation by the generous and honour- 
able. It was impossible for men of this description, even 
when acting with him, to forget that he was a traitor, 
first the slave of his rage, then purchased with gold, and 
finally secured by the blood of one of the most accom- 
plished officers in the British army. One would suppose 
that his mind could not have been much at ease; but he 
had proceeded so far in vice, that perhaps his reflections 
gave him but little trouble. "I am mistaken,** says 
Washington, in a private letter, "if a/ this time, Arnold 
is undergoing the torments of a mental hell. He wants 



ARNOLD. to 

feeling. From some traits of his character, which have 
lately come to my knowledge, he seems to have been so 
hacknied in crime, so lost to all sense of honour and 
shame, that while his faculties still enable him to con- 
tinue his sordid pursuits, there will be no time for re- 
morse." 

Arnold found it necessary to make some exertions to 
secure the attachment of his new friends. With the 
hope of alluring many of the discontented to his stan- 
dard, he published an address to the inhabitants of 
America, in which he endeavoured to justify his conduct. 
His address did not produce the effect designed, and in 
all the hardships, sufferings, and irritations of the war, 
Arnold remains the solitary instance of an American 
officer, who abandoned the side first embraced in the 
contest, and turned his sword upon his former compa- 
nions in arms. 

He was soon despatched by sir Henry Clinton, to make 
a diversion in Virginia. With about seventeen hundred 
men he arrived in the Chesapeake, in January, 1781, 
and being supported by such a naval force as was suited 
to the nature of the service, he committed extensive 
ravages on the rivers and along the unprotected coasts. 
It is said, that while on this expedition, Arnold inquired 
of an American captain, whom he had taken prisoner, 
what the Americans would do with him if he should fall 
into their hands. The captain at first declined giving 
him an answer, but upon being repeatedly urged to it, 
he said, " Why, sir, if I must answer your question, you 
must excuse my telling you the plain truth : if my coun- 
trymen should catch you, I believe they would first cutoff 
that lame leg, which was wounded in the cause of freedom 
and virtue, and bury it with the honours of war, and after- 
wards hang the remainder of your body in gibbets,^* The 
reader will recollect that the captain alluded to the 
wound Arnold received in one of his legs, at the attack 
upon Quebec, in 1776. 

After his return from Virginia, he was appointed to 
conduct an expedition, the object of which was the town 
of New London, in his native county. The troops em- 
ployed therein, were landed in two detachments, one on 
each side of the harbour. The one commanded by lieu- 



74 ARNOLD. 

tenant-colonel Eyre, and the other by Arnold. He took 
fort Trumbull without much opposition. Fort Griswold 
was furiously attacked by lieutenant-colonel Eyre. The 
garrison defended themselves with great resolution, but 
after a severe conflict of forty minutes, the fort was car- 
ried by the enemy. The Americans had not more than 
six or seven men killed, when the British carried the 
lines, but a severe execution took place afterwards, 
though resistance had ceased. An officer of the con- 
quering troops inquired, on his entering the fort, who 
commanded. Colonel Ledyard, presenting his sword, 
answered, "I did, but you do now;" and was imme- 
diately run through the body and killed. Between thirty 
and forty were wounded, and about forty were carried 
off prisoners. On the part of the British, forty-eight 
were killed, and one hundred and forty-five wounded. 
About fifteen vessels loaded with the effects of the in- 
habitants retreated up the river, and four others remained 
in the harbour unhurt; but all except these were burned 
by the communication of fire from the burning stores. 
Sixty dwelling houses and eighty-four stores were reduced 
to ashes. The loss which the Americans sustained by the 
destruction of naval stores, of provisions, and merchan- 
dise, was immense. General Arnold having completed 
the object of the expedition, returned in eight days to 
New York. At the close of the war, he accompanied 
the royal army to England. *'The contempt that fol- 
lowed him through life," says a late elegant writer," is 
further illustrated by the speech of the present lord 
Lauderdale, who, perceiving Arnold on the right hand of 
the king, and near his person, as he addressed his par- 
liament, declared, on his return to the commons, that, 
however gracious the language he had heard from the 
throne, his indignation could not but be highly excited, 
at beholding, as he had done, his majesty supported by 
a traitor." "And on another occasion, lord Surry, 
since duke of Norfolk, rising to speak in the house of 
commons, and perceiving Arnold in the gallery, sat 
down with precipitation, exclaiming, "I will not speak 
while that man, (pointing to him,) is in the house." 

As the treason and treachery of Arnold, and the cap- 
ture .of Andre, by three American militia-men, excited 



BIDDLE. 75 

great interest and feeling, from the circumstance that 
Arnold was the only instance of an American officer 
basely turning against his country in that doubtful con- 
test, and the contrast so striking, between Arnold and 
those virtuous private soldiers, we deem it proper to 
refer to the journals of the old congress, for authentic 
facts in relation to this most important transaction. 

On the 30th of September, 1780, we find in the jour- 
nals, the following facts connected with this affair : "A 
letter, of the 26th, from general Washington, was read, 
confirming the account given in the letter of the 25th, 
from major-general Greene, of the treasonable practices 
of major-general Benedict Arnold, and his desertion to 
the enemy. On the 4th of October, 1780, congress 
adopted the following resolution : Resolved, That the 
board of war be, and hereby are directed to erase from 
the register of the names of the officers of the army of 
the United States, the name of Benedict Arnold." 



BIDDLE, Nicholas, captain in the American navy, 
during the revolutionary war, was born in the. city of 
Philadelphia, in the year 1750. Among the brave men 
who perished in the glorious struggle for the indepen- 
dence of America, captain Biddle holds a distinguished 
rank. His services, and the high expectations raised 
by his military genius and gallantry, have left a strong 
impression of his merit, and a profound regret that his 
early fate should have disappointed, so soon, the hopes 
of his country. 

Very early in life he manifested a partiality for the 
sea, and before the age of fourteen he had made a voy- 
age to Quebec. In the following year, 1765, he sailed 
from Philadelphia to Jamaica, and the Bay of Honduras. 
The vessel left the bay in the latter end of December, 
1765, bound to Antigua, and on the second day of Janu- 
ary, in a heavy gale of wind, she was cast away on a 
shoal, called the Northern Triangles. After remain- 
ing two nights and a day upon the wreck, the crew took 



76 BIDDLE. 

to their yawl, the long-boat having been lost, and, with 
great difficulty and hazard, landed on one of the small 
uninhabited islands, about three leagues distant from 
the reef upon which they struck. Here they staid a 
few days. Some provisions were procured from the 
wreck, and their boat was refitted. As it was too small 
to carry them all off, they drew lots to determine who 
should remain, and young Biddle was among the num- 
ber. He, and his three companions, suffered extreme 
hardships for want of provisions and good water; and, 
although various efforts were made for their relief, i' 
was nearly two months before they succeeded. 

Such a scene of dangers and sufferings in the com- 
mencement of his career, would have discouraged a 
youth of ordinary enterprise and perseverance. On him 
it produced no such effect. The coolness and prompti- 
tude with which he acted, in the midst of perils that 
alarmed the oldest seamen, gave a sure presage of the 
force of his character, and after he had returned home, 
he made several European voyages, in which he ac- 
quired a thorough knowledge of seamanship. 

In the year 1770, when a war between Great Britain 
and Spain was expected, in consequence of the dispute 
relative to Falkland's Island, he went to London, in 
order to enter into the British navy. He took with 
him letters of recommendation from Thomas Willing, 
Esquire, to his brother-in-law, captain Sterling, on board 
of whose ship he served for some time as a midshipman. 
The dispute with Spain being accommodated, he intend- 
ed to leave the navy, but was persuaded by captain Ster- 
ling to remain in the service, promising that he would 
use all his interest to get him promoted. His ardent 
mind, however, could not rest satisfied with the inactivity 
of his situation, which he was impatient to change for 
one more suited to his disposition. 

In the year 1773, a voyage of discovery was under- 
taken, at the request of the Royal Society, in order to 
ascertain how far navigation was practicable towards 
the North Pole, to advance the discovery of a north-west 
passage into the soutji seas, and to make such astrono- 
mical observations as might prove serviceable to navi- 
gation. 



BIDDLE. 77 

Two vessels, the Race Horse and Carcase, were fitted 
out for the expedition, the command of which was given 
to captain Phipps, afterwards lord Mulgrave. The pe- 
culiar dangers to which such an undertaking was ex- 
posed, induced the government to take extraordinary- 
precautions in fitting out and preparing the vessels, and 
selecting the crews, and a positive order was issued that 
no boys should be received on board. 

To the bold and enterprising spirit of young Biddle, 
such an expedition had great attractions. Extremely 
anxious to join it, he endeavoured to procure captain 
Sterling's permission for that purpose, but he was un- 
willing to part with him, and would not consent to let 
him go. The temptation was, however, irresistible. He 
resolved to go, and laying aside his uniform, he entered 
on board the Carcase before the mast. When he first 
went on board, he was observed by a seaman who had 
known him before, and was very much attached to him. 
The honest fellow, thinking that he m-ust have been de- 
graded and turned before the mast in disgrace, was 
greatly aff'ected at seeing him, but he was equally sur- 
prised and pleased when he learned the true cause of the 
young officer's disguise, and he kept his secret, as he 
was requested to do. Impelled by the same spirit, 
young Horatio, afterwards lord Nelson, had solicited and 
obtained permission to enter on board the same vessel. 
These youthful adventurers are both said to have been 
appointed cockswains, a station always assigned to the 
most active and trusty seamen. The particulars of this 
expedition are well known to the public. These intre- 
pid navigators penetrated as far as the latitude of eighty- 
one degrees and thirty-nine minutes, and they were, at 
one time, enclosed with mountains of ice, and their ves- 
sels rendered almost immoveable for five days, at the 
hazard of instant destruction. Captain Biddle kept a 
journal of his voyage, which was afterwards lost w.ith 
him. 

The commencement of the revolution gave a ne^t 
turn to his pursuits, and he repaired without delay to the 
standard of his country. When a rupture between Eng- 
land and America appeared inevitable, he returned to 
Philadelphia, and soon after his arrival, he was appointed 

G 2 



78 BIDDLE. 

to the command of the Camden galley, fitted for the 
defence of the Delaware. He found this too inactive a 
service, and when the fleet was preparing, under com- 
modore Hopkins, for an expedition against New Provi- 
dence, he applied for a command in the fleet, and was 
immediately appointed commanderof the Andrew Doria, 
a brig of 14 guns and 130 men. Paul Jones, who was 
then a lieutenant, and was going on the expedition, was 
distinguished by captain Biddle, and introduced to his 
friends as an ofl[icer of merit. 

Before he sailed from the capes of Delaware, an inci- 
dent occurred, which marked his personal intrepidity. 
Hearing that two deserters from his vessel were at Lew- 
istown in prison, an officer was sent on shore for them, 
but he returned with information that the two men, with 
some others, had armed themselves, barricadoed the 
door, and swore they would not be taken ; that the militia 
of the town had been sent for, but were afraid to open 
the door, the prisoners threatening to shoot the first man 
who entered. Captain Biddle immediately went to the 
prison, accompanied by a midshipman, and calling to one 
of the deserters, whose name was Green, a stout, resolute 
fellow, ordered him to open the door; he replied that 
he would not, and if he attempted to enter, he would 
shoot him. He then ordered the door to be forced, and 
entering singly with a pistol in each hand, he called to 
Green, who was prepared to fire, and said, "now, Green, 
if you do not take good aim, you are a dead man." 
Daunted by his manner, their resolution failed, and the 
militia coming in, secured them. They afterwards de- 
clared to the officer who furnishes this account, that it 
was captain Biddle's look and manner which had awed 
them into submission, for that they had determined to 
kill him as soon as he came into the room. 

Writing from the capes to his brother, the late judge 
Biddle, he says, " I know not what may be our fate : be 
it, however, what it may, you may rest assured, I will 
never cause a blush in the cheeks of my friends or coun- 
trymen.'* Soon after they sailed, the small-pox broke 
out' and raged with great violence in the fleet, which 
was manned chiefly by New England seamen. The 
humanity of captain Biddle, always prompt and active, 



BIDDLE. 79 

was employed on this occasion to alleviate the general 
distress, by all the means in his power. His own crew, 
which was from Philadelphia, being secure against the 
distemper, he took on board great numbers of the sick 
from the other vessels. Every part of his vessel was 
crowded, the long-boat was fitted for their accommoda- 
tion, and he gave up his own cot to a young midshipman, 
on whom he bestowed the greatest attention till his 
death. In the mean while he slept himself upon the 
lockers, refusing the repeated solicitations of his officers, 
to accept their births. On their arrival at New Provi- 
dence, it surrendered without opposition. The crew of 
the Andrew Doria, from their crowded situation, became 
sick, and before she left Providence, there were not men 
enough capable of doing duty to man the boats ; captain 
Biddle visited them every day, and ordered every neces- 
sary refreshment, but they continued sickly until they 
arrived at New London. 

After refitting at New London, captain Biddle received 
orders to proceed off the banks of Newfoundland, in order 
to intercept the transports and storeships bound to Bos- 
ton. Before he reached the banks, he captured two 
ships from Scotland, with 400 highland troops on board, 
destined for Boston. At this time the Andrew Doria 
had not 100 men. Lieutenant Josiah, a brave and ex- 
cellent officer, v/as put on board one of the prizes, with 
all the highland officers, and ordered to make the first 
port. Unfortunately, about ten days afterwards, he was 
taken by the Cerberus frigate, and, on pretence of his 
being an Englishman, he was ordered to do duty, and 
extremely ill used. Captain Biddle hearing of the ill 
treatment of lieutenant Josiah, wrote to the admiral at 
New York, that, however disagreeable it was to him, he 
would treat a young man of family, believed to be a son 
of lord Craston, who was then his prisoner, in the man- 
ner they treated lieutenant Josiah. 

He also applied to his own government in behalf of 
this injured officer, and by the proceedings of congress, 
on the 7th of August, 1776, it appears, "that a letter 
from captain Nicholas Biddle to the marine committee, 
was laid before congress and read : whereupon. Resolved, 
That general Washington be directed to propose an 



80 BIDDLE. 

exchange of lieutenant Josiah, for a lieutenant of the navy 
of Great Britain: that the general remonstrate to lord 
Howe on the cruel treatment lieutenant Josiah has met 
with, of which the congress have received undoubted 
information." Lieutenant Josiah was exchanged, after 
an imprisonment of ten months. After the capture of 
the ships with the highlanders, such was captain Bid- 
die's activity and success in taking prizes, that when he 
arrived in the Delaware, he had but five of the crew 
with which he sailed from New London, the rest having 
been distributed among the captured vessels, and their 
places supplied by men who had entered from the prizes. 
He had a great number of prisoners, so that, for some 
days before he got in, he never left the deck. 

While he was thus indefatigably engaged in weak- 
ening the enemy's power, and advancing his country's 
interest, he was disinterested and generous in all that 
related to his private advantage. The brave and worthy 
opponent, whom the chance of war had thrown in his 
power, found in him a patron and friend, who, on more 
than one occasion, was known to restore to the van- 
quished the fruits of victory. 

In the latter end of the year 1776, captain Biddle was 
appointed to the command of the Randolph, a frigate 
of thirty-two guns. With his usual activity, he employed 
every exertion to get her ready for sea. The difficulty 
of procuring American seamen at that time, obliged 
him, in order to man his ship, to take a number of Bri- 
tish seamen, who were prisoners of war, and who had 
requested leave to enter. 

The Randolph sailed from Philadelphia, in February, 
1777. Soon after she got to sea, her lower masts were 
discovered to be unsound, and, in a heavy gale of wind, 
all her masts went by the board. While they were bear- 
ing away for Charleston, the English sailors, with some 
others of the crew, formed a design to take the ship. 
When all was ready, they gave three cheers on the gun- 
deck. By the decided and resolute conduct of captain 
Biddle and his officers, the ring-leaders were seized and 
punished, and the rest submitted without further resist- 
ance. After refitting at Charleston, as speedily as pos- 
sible, he sailed on a cruise, and three days after he left 



BIDDLE. 81 

the bar, he fell in with four sail of vessels, bound from 
Jamaica to London. One of them, called the True Bri- 
ton, mounted twenty guns. The commander of her, who 
had frequently expressed to his passengers his hopes 
of falling in with the Randolph, as soon as he perceived 
her, made all the sail he could from her, but finding he 
could not escape, he hove to, and kept up a constant 
fire, until the Randolph had bore down upon him, and 
was preparing for a broadside, when he hauled down 
his colours. By her superior sailing, the Randolph was 
enabled to capture the rest of the vessels, and in one 
week from the time he sailed from Charleston, captain 
Biddle returned there with his prizes, which proved to 
be very valuable. 

Encouraged by his spirit and success, the state of 
South Carolina m.ade exertions for fitting out an expe- 
dition under his comm.and. His name, and the personal 
attachment to him, urged forward a crowd of volunteers 
to serve with him, and in a short time, the ship General 
Moultrie, the brigs Fair America, and Polly, and the 
Notre Dame, were prepared for sea. A detachment of 
fifty men from the first regiment of South Carolina Con- 
tinental infantry, was ordered to act as marines on board 
the Randolph. Such was the attachment which the 
honourable and amiable deportment of captain Biddle 
had impressed during his stay at Charleston, and such 
the confidence inspired by his professional conduct and 
valour, that a general emulation pervaded the corps to 
have the honour of serving under his command. The 
tour of duty, after a generous competition among the 
officers, was decided to captain Joor, and lieutenants 
Grey and Simmons, whose gallant conduct, and that of 
their brave detachment, did justice to the high charac- 
ter of the regiment. As soon as the Randolph was re- 
fitted, and anew mainmast obtained in place of one which 
had been struck with lightning, she dropt down to Re- 
bellion Roads with her little squadron. Their intention 
was to attack the Carysfort frigate, the Perseus twenty- 
four gun ship, the Hinchinbrook of sixteen guns, and a 
privateer which had been cruising off the bar, and had 
much annoyed the trade. * They were detained a con- 
siderable time in Rebellion Roads, after they were ready 



82 BIDDLE. 

to sail, by contrary winds, and want of water on the bar 
for the Randolph. As soon as they got over the bar, 
they stood to the eastward, in expectation of falling in 
with the British cruisers. The next day they retook a 
dismasted ship from New England ; as she had no cargo 
on board, they took out her crew, six light guns, and 
some stores, and set her on fire. Finding that the Bri- 
tish ships had left the coast, they proceeded to the West 
Indies, and cruised to the eastward, and nearly in the 
latitude of Barbadoes, for some days, during which time 
they boarded a number of French and Dutch ships, and 
took an English schooner from New York, bound to 
Grenada, which had mistaken the Randolph for a Bri- 
tish frigate, and was taken possession of before the mis- 
take was discovered. 

On the night of the 7th March, 1778, the fatal acci- 
dent occurred, which terminated the life of this excellent 
officer. For some days previously he had expected an 
attack. Captain Blake, a brave officer, who commanded 
a detachment of the second South Carolina Regiment, 
serving as marines on board the General Moultrie, and 
to whom we are indebted for several of the ensuing par- 
ticulars, dined on board the Randolph two days before 
the engagement. At dinner captain Biddle said, " We 
have been cruising here for some time, and have spoken 
a number of vessels, who will no doubt give information 
of us, and I should not be surprised if my old ship should 
be out after us. As to any thing that carries her guns 
upon one deck, I think myself a match for her." About 
three P. M. of the 7th of March, a signal was made 
from the Randolph for a sail to windward, in conse- 
quence of which the squadron hauled upon a wind, in 
order to speak her. It was four o'clock before she 
could be distinctly seen, when she was discovered to be 
a ship, though as she neared and came before the wind, 
she had the appearance of a large sloop with only a 
square-sail set. About seven o'clock, the Randolph be- 
ing to windward, hove to; the Moultrie, being about one 
hundred and fifty yards astern, and rather to leeward, 
also hove to. About eight o'clock the British ship fired 
a shot just ahead of the Moultrie, and hailed her; the 
answer was, the Polly, of New York ; upon which she 



BIDDLE. 83 

immediately hauled her wind, and hailed the Randolph. 
She was then, for the first time, discovered to be a two- 
decker. After several questions asked and answered, 
as she was ranging up alongside the Randolph, and 
had got on her weather quarter, lieutenant Barnes, of 
that ship, called out, " This is the Randolph," and she 
immediately hoisted her colours and gave the enemy a 
broadside. Shortly after the action commenced, captain 
Biddle received a wound in the thigh and fell. ^This oc- 
casioned some confusion, as it was at first thought that 
he was killed. He soon, however, ordered a chair to be 
brought, said that he was only slightly wounded, and 
being carried forward encouraged the crew. The stern 
of the enemy's ship being clear of the Randolph, the 
captain of the Moultrie gave orders to fire, but the ene- 
my having shot ahead , so as to bring the Randolph between 
them, the last broadside of the Moultrie went into the 
Randolph, and it was thought by one of the men saved, 
who was stationed on the quarter-deck near captain Bid- 
die, that he was wounded by a shot from the Moultrie. 
The fire from the Randolph was constant and well 
directed. She fired nearly three broadsides to the ene- 
my's one, and she appeared, while the battle lasted, to 
be in a continual blaze. In about twenty minutes after 
the action began, and while the surgeon was examining 
captain Biddle's wound on the quarter deck, the Ran- 
dolph blew up. 

The enemy's vessel was the British ship Yarmouth, 
of sixty-four guns, coipmanded by captain Vincent. So 
closely were they engaged, that captain Morgan, of the 
Fair American, and all his crew, thought that it was 
the enemy's ship that had blown up. He stood for the 
Yarmouth, and had a trumpet in his hand to hail and in- 
quire how captain Biddle was, when he discovered his 
mistake. Owing to the disabled condition of the Yar- 
mouth, the other vessels escaped. 

The cause of the explosion was never ascertained, but 
it is remarkable that just before he sailed, after the clerk 
had copied the signals and orders for the armed vessels 
that accompanied him, he wrote at the foot of them, 
" In case of coming to action in the night be very careful 
of your magazines." The number of persons on board 



84 BUTLER. 

the Randolph was three hundred and fifteen, who ail 
perished except four men, who were tossed about for 
four days on a piece of the wreck before they were dis- 
covered and taken up. From the information of two of 
these men, who were afterwards in Philadelphia, and of 
some individuals in the other vessels of the squadron, we 
have been enabled to state some particulars of this un- 
fortunate event, in addition to the accounts given of it by 
Dr. Ramsay in his History of the American Revolution, 
and in his History of the Revolution of South Carolina. 
In the former work, the historian thus concludes his ac- 
count of the action: "Captain Biddle, who perished on 
board the Randolph, was universally lamented. He was 
in the prime of life, and had excited high expectations 
of future usefulness to his country, as a bold and skilful 
naval officer." 

Thus prematurely fell, at the age of twenty-seven, as 
gallant an officer as any country ever boasted of. In the 
short career which Providence allowed to him, he dis- 
played all those qualities which constitute a great sol- 
dier—brave to excess, and consummately skilled in his 
profession. 



•■•*»*^©^5 ©<•**• 



BUTLER, Zebulon, was born at Lyme, in the state 
of Connecticut, in the year 1731. He entered early in 
life into the service of his country in the provincial 
troops of his native state. In this service he remained, 
actively employed, for several years, and rose from the 
rank of an ensign to the command of a company. He 
partook largely in the transactions of the war between 
the English and French, on the frontiers of Canada, par- 
ticularly in the campaign of 1758, at Fort Edward, Lake 
George, Ticonderoga, and Crown Point. In 1761, he 
was again at Crown Point, and at that time held the 
rank of captain. The history of these transactions is 
well known, and need not here be repeated. In June, 
1762, captain Butler sailed with his company, and the 
other provincial troops, to reinforce the British, then 



BUTLER. 85 

besieging the Havanna; and on the 20th of July, the 
vessel in which he sailed was shipwrecked on a reef of 
rocks on the island of Cuba. They were fortunate 
enough to escape to the shore, where they remained nine 
days, and were then taken on board a man of war. Five 
other ships were discovered also shipwrecked on the 
same side of the island; and after waiting until these 
were relieved, they again steered for Havanna. They ar- 
rived, and anchored with the rest of the fleet on the 9th 
of August, and the next day landed and encamped. The 
sufferings and the success of the British at the siege of 
Havanna, are matters of history. Captain Butler shared 
in the dangers of the remainder of the siege, as well as 
in the honours and profits of the surrender, which took 
place shortly after the arrival of the reinforcements. 

On the 2 1 St of October, 1762, captain Butler sailed 
out of the harbour of Havanna, on his return, on board the 
Royal Duke transport. On the 7th of November, in 
latitude 35, the ship sprung a leak, and it was by the 
greatest exertions for three days, that she could be kept 
afloat, until the men were transferred to other ships. 
When this was accomplished, they left the Royal Duke 
to sink. He arrived at New York on the 21st day of 
December. 

When the aggressions of the British ministry com- 
pelled their American colonies to take up arms in de- 
fence of their rights, captain Butler was among the first 
to tender his services to his country. His offer was ac- 
cepted, and he was appointed a lieutenant-colonel in the 
Connecticut line. In this capacity he was with the army 
in the campaign of 1777, in New Jersey, and served 
until March, 1779, when he was appointed colonel of 
the second Connecticut regiment, to rank as such from 
the 1 3th of March, 1778. Some time previous to this, 
colonel Butler had become interested in lands pur- 
chased of the Indians by the Susquehanna company, 
lying in the valley of Wyoming, and adjacent to the 
Susquehanna river. He had visited the valley, and was 
so much pleased with it, that he determined to remove 
into it. This flourishing settlement had been established 
by the people of Connecticut, and was claimed by them 
by virtue of their charter and their purchase from the 



B6 BUTLER. 

Indians. It consisted of several large townships, beau- 
tifully situated on both sides of the river; and that part 
of it which is included in the valley of Wyoming was, 
and still is, one of the most delightful spots in our 
country. Its situation, soil, and scenery, cannot be sur- 
passed. It had long been the favourite abode of the 
savages, and they viewed, with peculiar animosity, its 
occupancy by strangers. The war in which the colo- 
nists were engaged with the mother country, and the 
encouragement and protection held out by the British 
to the Indians, afforded the latter a good opportunity 
for gratifying their wicked designs, in the destruction 
of this remote settlement. This they, in conjunction 
with the British tories, effectually accomplished in July, 
1778. 

This settlement, at an early period of our revolution- 
ary struggle, had Ijeen drained of its effective force, by 
furnishing two companies, of ninety men each, to the 
continental army. Soon after the departure of these 
troops, the Indians began to assume a hostile attitude, 
and their conduct, together with other suspicious cir- 
cumstances, led the inhabitants to suspect that some 
mischief was meditating against them, though they did 
not apprehend an immediate attack. For their better 
security, several stockade forts were built in the different 
townships, and a company of rangers was raised, under 
the command of captain Hewitt. This company was 
destined to remain in the valley for its defence, and to 
ascertain by its scouts the movements of the Indians, 
some of whom were located at their Indian towns, about 
fifty miles up the Susquehanna. In the spring of 1778, 
the settlers, fearing an attack, sent an express to the 
l>oard of war, to represent the danger in which the set- 
tlement at Wyoming was of being destroyed by the In- 
dians and tories, and to request that the men who had 
gone from the valley, and joined the continental army, 
might be ordered to return, and assist in the defence of 
their homes. Their request was granted, and a company, 
commanded by captain Spalding, composed of what re- 
mained of the two companies before mentioned as having 
been enlisted at Wyoming, set out for the valley, and 
were within two days' march of it, on the day of the 



BUTLER. 87 

fatal battle. About the first of June, the same year, a 
scouting party from captain HeAvitt's company discover- 
ed a number of canoes, with Indians, on the river at 
some distance above the settlement, and a few days after, 
a party of Indians attacked, and killed or made prison- 
ers, nine or ten men, while at work on the bank of the 
river, about ten miles above the fort. Many circum- 
stances indicated the approach of a large body of the 
enemy. Such was the situation of the settlement when 
colonel Butler arrived. This v/as the latter part of June, 
and but a few days before the battle. On the 1st of July, 
the militia under the command of colonel Denison, with 
all others who were capable and willing to bear arms, 
assembled at the fort in Wilkesbarre, being the principal 
fort. They made an excursion against the enemy, killed 
two Indians, and found the bodies of the men who had 
been murdered by them. When they returned, each man 
was obliged to go to his own house and furnish himself 
with provisions, as there were none collected at the fort. 
In consequence of this dispersion, they were not able to 
assemble again until the 3d of July, when their whole 
strength amounted to about three hundred and fifty men. 

It probably would have been greater, but many of the 
settlers chose rather to remain in the other forts for the 
purpose of defending their families and property, in 
which they naturally felt a greater interest than in the 
general welfare. Of the whole force, consisting of the 
militia, captain Hewitt's company of rangers, and a 
few volunteers, including several officers and soldiers 
of the regular army, who happened to be in the valley, 
colonel Butler was requested to take the command. The 
whole, as before stated, amounted to about three hundred 
and fifty men, indifferently furnished with arms and am- 
munition. 

As the enemy had entered the valley at the upper end, 
and had advanced directly towards the fort, in which 
the settlers were assembled, the object of the savages 
was supposed to be to attack them in the fort. The 
enemy had taken fort Wintermote, and one other small 
fort, and burnt them, and were burning and laying waste 
the whole country in their progress. Colonel Butler 
held a consultation with the officers, and it was decided 



88 BUTLER. 

to be best to go out and intercept the progress of the 
enemy, if possible, and put an end to the scene of devas- 
tation which they witnessed. Being perfectly acquainted 
with the country, they marched out some distance from 
the fort, and formed on the bank of a creek, in a very 
advantageous situation. Here they lay concealed, ex- 
pecting that the enemy would advance to attack the fort, 
and knowing that if they did so they would pass the 
place where the Americans were in ambush. In this 
situation they remained near half the day, but no enemy 
appearing, a council was called, in which there was a 
difference of opinion as to the expediency of advancing 
and attacking the enemy, or of returning to the fort, there 
to defend themselves until the arrival of captain Spald- 
ing's company, which was daily expected. On the one 
hand, the hope of succour, and their uncertainty as to 
the strength of the enemy, were urged as reasons for 
returning ; and on the other, the destruction of the whole 
country, which would inevitably follow such a step, to- 
gether with the insufficiency of the fort, and the want of 
provisions to enable them to stand a siege, were power- 
ful reasons in favour of risking an immediate battle. 
Captain Lazarus Stewart, a brave man, famous in the 
country for his exploits among the Indians, and whose 
opinion had much weight, urged an immediate attack; 
declaring that if they did not march forward that day 
and attack the enemy, he would withdraw with his whole 
company. This left them no alternative, and they ad- 
vanced accordingly. 

They had not gone above a mile, before the advance 
guard fired upon some Indians who were in the act of 
plundering and burning a house. These fled to their 
camp, and gave the alarm that the Americans were ap- 
proaching. Fort Wintermote was at this time the head 
quarters of the enemy. Their whole force, consisting 
of Indians, British, and tories,was, as near as could after- 
wards be ascertained, about one thousand men, and was 
commanded by colonel John Butler, an officer of the 
British army, and an Indian chief called Brandt. They 
were apparently unapprized of the movements of the 
Americans, until the return to the main body of those 
Indians who had been fired on. They immediately 



BUTLER. 89 

extended themselves in a line from tne fort, across a plain 
covered vi'ith pine trees and under-brush. When formed, 
the right of the enemy rested on a swamp, and their left 
on Fort Wintermote. The Americans marched to the 
attack, also in a line, colonel Zebulon Butler leading on 
the right wing, opposed by colonel John Butler, at the 
head of the British troops, painted to resemble Indians ; 
colonel Denison was on the left, and opposed by Brandt 
and the Indians. In this position, the parties engaged, 
and each supported its ground for some time with much 
firmness. At length the Americans on the right had the 
advantage of the fight, having forced the enemy's left 
wing to retire some distance. But on the left the battle 
soon wore a different aspect. The Indians, having pe- 
netrated the swamp, were discovered attempting to get 
into their rear. Colonel Denison immediately gave or- 
ders for the left to fall back and meet them as they came 
out of the swamp. This order was misunderstood, and 
some of the men or officers cried out " the colonel orders 
a retreat." The left immediately gave way, and before 
they could be undeceived as to the object of the order, 
the line broke, and the Indians rushed on with hideous 
yells. Colonel Zebulon Butler, who had continued on 
horseback throughout the day, finding that the right 
wing was doing well, rode towards the left. When he 
got a little more than half way down the line, he disco- 
vered that his men were retreating, and that he was be- 
tween the two fires, and near the advancing line of the 
enemy. The right had no notice of the retreat, until the 
firing on the left had ceased, and the yelling of the 
savages indicated their success. This wing, no longer 
able to maintain its ground, was forced to retreat, and 
the route soon became general. The officers were prin- 
cipally killed in their ineffectual attempts to rally the 
men. The defeat was total, and the loss in killed was 
variously estimated at from two to three hundred of 
the settlers. Of captain Hewitt's company but fifteen 
escaped. The loss of the enemy was also considerable. 
Colonels Butler and Denison, although much exposed to 
the enemy's fire, escaped. Colonel Butler collected four 
or five men together in their flight, directed them to re- 
tain their arms, and when any of the Indians, who were 
H 2 



90 BUTLER. 

scattered over the plain, hunting for their victims, ap- 
proached the little party, they fired upon them, and by 
this means they secured their retreat to Forty fort. 
Many of the settlers, at the commencement of their 
flight, had thrown away their arms, that they might be 
better able to escape. But this was of no avail, for the 
Indians overtook and killed them with their tomahawks. 
The few that escaped, assembled at Forty fort; but the 
inhabitants were so much disheartened by their defeat, 
that they were ready to submit upon any terms that 
might be offered. The enemy refused to treat with 
colonel Butler, or to give quarter to any continental offi- 
cer or soldier. Indeed, it had been determined, that if 
they were taken, to deliver them into the hands of the 
Indians. Colonel Butler then left the valley, and pro- 
ceeded to a place on the Lehigh, called Gnadenhutten. 
On the 4th of July, colonel Denison and colonel John 
Butler entered into articles of capitulation for the sui*- 
render of the settlement. By these articles it was stipu- 
lated, among other things, that " the lives of the inhabi- 
tants should be preserved," and that they should " occupy 
their farms peaceably;" that "the continental stores 
should be given up," and that "the private property of 
the inhabitants should be preserved entire and unhurt." 
The enemy then marched into the fort; but the condi- 
tions of the capitulation were entirely disregarded on 
their part. The Indians plundered the inhabitants indis- 
criminately, and stripped them even of such of their 
wearing apparel as they chose to take. Complaint was 
made to colonel John Butler, who turned his back upon 
them, saying he could not control the Indians, and walk- 
ed out of the fort. The people, finding that they were 
left to the mercy of the tories and savages, fled from the 
valley, and made the best of their way, about fifty miles, 
through the wilderness, to the nearest settlement of their 
friends, leaving their property a prey to the enemy. All 
the houses on the north-west side of the Susquehanna 
were plundered and burnt. They afterwards plundered 
and burnt the town of Wilkesbarre. Having accomplish- 
ed' their hellish purpose of destruction and desolation, the 
main body of the enemy returned to Niagara, taking with 
them all the horses, cattle, and other property which 



fitJTLER. 9 1 

they did not think proper to destroy, leaving behind 
them nothing but one vast, melancholy scene of univer- 
sal desolation. 

It may be proper to notice the generally received opi- 
nion, that colonel Zebulon Butler and colonel John But- 
ler were cousins. This is a mistake. Both the parties 
denied having any knowledge of any relationship sub- 
sisting between them. 

From Gnadenhutten colonel Butler wrote to the board 
of war, giving an account of the fatal disaster of the 3d 
of July. He then went to Stroudsburg, in Northampton 
county, where he found captain Spalding's company, and 
some fugitives from Wyoming. Colonel Butler was 
ordered to collect what force he could, and with Spald- 
ing's company return and retake possession of the coun- 
try. This he did in the month of August following. On 
his return to the valley, he found some straggling In- 
dians, and also a small party driving off cattle. These 
were soon dispersed, and their booty taken from them. 
He immediately erected a fort at Wilkesbarre, and esta- 
blished a garrison. By orders from the board of war, 
he continued in the command of the place until the fall 
of 1780, during which time the garrison and the inha- 
bitants generally suffered from the incursions of the 
Indians. Several lives were lost, and they killed a num- 
ber of the Indians, though no general battle was fought. 
General Sullivan's expedition checked for a while their 
ravages. He arrived in Wyoming in the spring of 1779, 
and as soon as proper arrangements could be made, he 
marched into the country of the Indians, leaving colonel 
Butler in the command of Wyoming. 

By orders from general Washington, dated, " Head 
Quarters, New Windsor, December 29th, 1780," colonel 
Butler was directed to deliver the post at Wyoming to 
captain Alexander Mitchell, and to march with the men 
under his command and join the army. This was stated 
by general Washington to be in consequence of ** con- 
gress having, in order to remove all cause of jealousy 
and discontent between the states of Pennsylvania and 
Connecticut, directed me to withdraw the present gar- 
rison of Wyoming, and replace them with troops from 
the continental army, not belonging to the line of Penn- 



92 BUTLER. 

sylvania or Connecticut, or citizens of either of said 
states." In obedience to these orders, he repaired to 
head quarters, and remained with the army during the 
rest of the war. 

In the unhappy dispute between the citizens of Con- 
necticut and Pennsylvania, arising out of the claims 
which the latter advanced to the lands on the Susque- 
hanna, upon which the former had settled, colonel But- 
ler took an active part in favour of the Connecticut set- 
tlers. He considered them as acting on the defensive, 
and the others as the aggressors. Open hostilities com- 
menced between the parties as early as 1769, and were 
continued until after the revolutionary war. The New 
England people were twice driven from their settlements, 
though they returned immediately with reinforcements, 
and repossessed themselves of the country. Many lives 
were lost on both sides, and innumerable hardships en- 
dured, during this unfortunate contest. No very general 
engagement ever took place between the parties. The 
principal array of forces which was at any time made 
against each other, was at the defeat of captain Plunket, 
in 1775. This officer had marched from Northumber- 
land, for the purpose of dispossessing the settlers at 
Wyoming, and taking possession of it themselves in the 
name of the Pennsylvania claimants. Colonel Butler 
with a party of settlers met them at the lower end of the 
valley, defeated them, and drove them back. The decree 
of Trenton, as it is called, put an end to hostilities, by 
determining, that the jurisdiction of the state of Penn- 
sylvania extended over the disputed territory. To this 
determination colonel Butler, with most of the settlers, 
yielded. After the war he continued to reside at Wyo- 
ming, and received appointments under the state of 
Pennsylvania, particularly the situation of lieutenant of 
the county. He died at Wilkesbarre, on the 28th of 
July, 1795, in the sixty -fourth year of his age. 

As numerous and very incorrect accounts of the 
" Massacre of Wyoming," (as the foregoing battle has 
generally, and with great truth, been called,) have been 
published and incorporated in the histories of the times, 
the compiler is induced to state, that the foregoing 
sketch was politely furnished by a descendant of colonel 



CADWALADER. 93 

Butler, residing in the valley, and may be relied on as a 
correct and faithful narrative of the transactions of that 
fatal and disastrous day. 






CADWALADER, John, born in Philadelphia, was 
distinguished for his zealous and inflexible adherence 
to the cause of America, and for his intrepidity as a 
soldier, in upholding that cause during the most dis- 
couraging periods of danger and misfortune. At the 
dawn of the revolution, he commanded a corps of volun- 
teers, designated as "Me silk stocking company, ^^ of which 
nearly all the members were appointed to commissions 
in the line of the army. He afterwards was appointed 
colonel of one of the city battalions; and, being thence 
promoted to the rank of brigadier-general, was intrusted 
with the command of the Pennsylvania troops, in the 
important operations of the winter campaign of 1776 
and 1777. He acted with his command, and as a volun- 
teer, in the actions of Princeton, Brandywine, German- 
town, and Monmouth, and on other occasions ; and receiv- 
ed the thanks of general Washington, whose confidence 
and regard he uniformly enjoyed. 

When general Washington determined to attack the 
British and Hessian troops at Trenton, he assigned him 
the command of a division. In the evening of Christmas 
day, 1776, general Washington made arrangements to 
pass the river Delaware, in three divisions : one, con- 
sisting of 500 men, under general Cadwalader, from the 
vicinity of Bristol ; a second division, under the com- 
mand of general Irvine, was to cross at Trenton ferry, 
and secure the bridge leading to the town. Generals 
Cadwalader and Irvine made every exertion to get over, 
but the quantity of ice was so great, that they could not 
effect their purpose. The third, and main body, which 
was commanded by general Washington, crossed at 
M'Konkey's ferry ; but the ice in the river retarded their 
passage so long, that it was three o'clock in the morn- 
ing before the artillery could be got over. On their 



94 CADWALADER. 

landing in Jersey, they were formed into two divisions, 
commanded by generals Sullivan and Greene, who had 
under their command brigadiers lord Sterling, Mercer, 
and St. Clair: one of these divisions was ordered to pro- 
ceed on the lower or river road, the other on the upper 
or Pennington road. Colonel Stark, with some light 
troops, was also directed to advance near to the river, 
and to possess himself of that part of the town which 
is beyond the bridge. The divisions, having nearly the 
same distance to march, were ordered immediately on 
forcing the out-guards, to push directly into Trenton, 
that they might charge the enemy before they had time 
to form. Though they marched different roads, yet they 
arrived at the enemy's advanced post within three mi- 
nutes of each other. The out-guards of the Hessian 
troops at Trenton soon fell back, but kept up a constant 
retreating fire. Their main body being hard pressed by 
the Americans, who had already got possession of half 
their artillery, attempted to file off by a road leading 
towards Princeton, but were checked by a body of troops 
thrown in their way. Finding they were surrounded, 
they laid down their arms. The number which sub- 
mitted, was twenty-three officers, and eight hundred and 
eighty-six men. Between thirty and forty of the Hes- 
sians were killed and wounded. Colonel Rahl was among 
the former, and seven of his officers among the latter. 
Captain Washington, of the Virginia troops, and five or 
six of the Americans were wounded. Two were killed, 
and two or three were frozen to death. The detachment 
in Trenton, consisting of the regiments of Rahl, Losberg, 
and Kniphausen, amounted in the whole to about fifteen 
hundred men, and a troop of British light horse. All 
these were killed or captured, except about six hundred, 
who escaped by the road leading to Bordentown. 

The British had a strong battalion of light infantry at 
Princeton, and a force yet remaining near the Delaware, 
superior to the American army. General Washington, 
therefore, in the evening of the same day, thought it 
most prudent to recross into Pennsylvania, with his 
prisoners. 

The next day after Washington's return, supposing 
him still on the Jersey side, general Cadwalader crossed 



CADWALADER. 95 

with about fifteen hundred men, and pursued the panic 
struck enemy to Burlington. 

The merits and services of general Cadwalader, in- 
duced the congress, early in 1778, to compliment him 
by an unanimous vote, with the appointment of general 
of cavalry ; vi^hich appointment he declined, under an 
impression that he could be more useful to his country 
in the sphere in which he had been acting. 

The victory at Trenton had a most happy effect, and 
general Washington, finding himself at the head of a 
force w^ith which it was practicable to attempt some- 
thing, resolved not to remain inactive. Inferior as he 
was to the enemy, he yet determined to employ the 
winter in endeavouring to recover the whole, or a great 
part of Jersey. The enemy were now collected in force 
at Princeton, under lord Cornwallis, where some works 
were thrown up. Generals Mifflin and Cadwalader, who 
lay at Bordentown and Crosswicks, with three thousand 
six hundred militia, were ordered to march up in the 
night of the first January, 1777, to join the commander 
in chief, whose whole force, with this addition, did not 
exceed five thousand men. He formed the bold and ju- 
dicious design of abandoning the Delaware, and march- 
ing silently in the night by a circuitous route, along the 
left flank of the enemy, into their rear at Princeton, 
where he knew they could not be very strong. He reach- 
ed Princeton early in the morning of the third, and 
would have completely surprised the British, had not a 
party, which was on their way to Trenton, descried his 
troops, when they were about two miles distant, and sent 
back couriers to alarm their fellow soldiers in the rear. 
A sharp action ensued, which, hov/ever, was not of long 
duration. The militia, of which the advanced party was 
principally composed, soon gave way. General Mercer 
was mortally wounded while exerting himself to rally 
his broken troops. The moment was critical. General 
Washington pushed forward, and placed himself be- 
tween his own men and the British, with his horse's 
head fronting the latter. The Americans, encouraged 
by his example, made a stand, and returned the British 
fire. A party of the British fled into the college, and 
were attacked with field-pieces. After receiving a few 



96 CHAMPE. 

discharges, they came out and surrendered themselves 
prisoners of war. In this action upwards of one hundred 
of the enemy were killed on the spot, and three hundred 
taken prisoners. The Americans lost only a few, but 
colonels Haslet and Potter, two brave and valuable offi- 
cers, from Delaware and Pennsylvania, were among the 
slain. 

General Cadwalader's celebrated duel with general 
Conway, arose from his spirited opposition to the in- 
trigues of that officer, to undermine the standing of the 
commander in chief. 

It will be recollected that general Conway was dan- 
gerously wounded, and while his recovery was doubtful, 
he addressed a letter to general Washington, acknow- 
ledging that he had done him injustice. 

He died February 10th, 1786, at Kent county, Mary- 
land, in the 44th year of his age. 



CHAMPE, John, was a native of Loudon county, Vir- 
ginia. In the year 1776, at the age of twenty-four, he 
entered the revolutionary army, and was appointed a 
sergeant-major in Lee's legion of cavalry. After the 
detection of Arnold's treason, and the capture of major 
Andre, the commander in chief received frequent intel- 
ligence that many American officers, and one brigadier- 
general, high in his confidence, were implicated in the 
guilt of that conspiracy. He consulted with major Lee 
on the subject, submitted to his inspection the papers 
detailing this alarming intelligence, and desired his opi- 
nion on the subject. Major Lee endeavoured to calm 
his apprehensions, and represented this as an artifice 
which the British general had adopted to weaken the 
confidence of the commander in chief in his subordinate 
officers, and to sow the seeds of discord in the American 
camp. Washington observed, that the same thought 
had occurred to him ; but as these remarks applied with 
equal force to Arnold before his desertion, he was de- 
termined on probing this matter to the bottom. He 



CHAMPE. 9f 

proceeded to say, that what he had then to communicate 
was a subject of high delicacy, and entire confidence. 
He wished major Lee to recommend some bold and en- 
terprising individual from the legion he commanded, 
who should proceed on that very night to the enemy's 
camp, in the character of a deserter. He was to make 
himself known to one or two of Washington's confiden- 
tial agents in New York, to obtain, through their means, 
the most authentic evidence of the innocence or guilt of 
the American officers suspected, and transmit the result 
to major Lee. Another part of his project was to seize 
the traitor, and to bring him alive to the American camp; 
but the orders were positive not to put him to death, 
and to suffer him to escape, if he could not be taken by 
any other means. His public punishment was all that 
Washington desired. He flattered himself that by Ar- 
nold's arrest he would be enabled to unravel this con- 
spiracy, and save the life of the unfortvnate Andre. When 
major Lee sounded Champe on this business, the heroic 
Serjeant replied, that if any means could be devised by 
which he could testify his devotion to his country, and 
his attachment to his commander in chief, compatible 
with honour, he would cheerfully endure any personal 
risk: but his soul abhorred the thoughts of desertion. 
Major Lee with much difficulty succeeded in convincing 
him, that in no other way could he render so important 
a service to his country, and he was at last prevailed 
upon to undertake this hazardous service. After being 
furnished with his instructions, which he hastily took 
down in a character, or rather a cipher of his own, (for he 
was not permitted to carry written orders,) his difficulty 
was to pass the American lines. The major was unable 
to promise him any protection, as this would seem to 
countenance the plot, and to favour the desertion of 
others, and the enemy might, moreover, obtain intelli- 
gence hy that means, discover and defeat his object, and 
he himself suffer the ignominious death of a spy. The 
Serjeant at length departed, and about half an hour after- 
wards, the colonel was informed that one of the patroles 
had fallen in with a dragoon, who, being challenged, put 
spurs to his horse, and escaped. Lee made light of the 
intelligence, and scouted the idea that a dragoon belong- 
i 



98 CHAMPE. 

ing to his legion should desert. It was probably, he 
said, a countryman, who was alarmed at the challenge, 
and might easily in the night time be mistaken for one 
of his men. Orders were at length given, to examine 
the squadron. This command was promptly obeyed, and 
produced a confirmation of the first intelligence, with 
the further tidings that this individual was no other than 
the sergeant-major : as neither himself, his baggage, nor 
his horse, were to be found. Lee now made lighter than 
ever of the report ; enlarged on the former services of 
the sergeant, and his known and tried fidelity. He said 
that he had probably followed the pernicious example 
set by his superior officers, who, in defiance of their or- 
ders, peremptory as they were, occasionally quitted the 
camp, and were never suspected of desertion. All these 
pretexts having been exhausted, written orders were at 
length issued, in the usual form. "Pursue as far as you 
can, sergeant Champe, suspected of desertion; bring him 
alive, that he may suffer in the presence of the army; but 
kill him if he resists, or escapes after being taken." Be- 
fore the pursuing party set out, major Lee directed the 
commanding officer to be changed, which allowed a lit- 
tle more time to the fugitive. Pursuit was at length 
made, and continued with such eagerness, that Champe 
escaped at the distance only of three hundred yards. 
The British galleys were lying below Powle's hook; 
Champe called to them for protection, and leaving his" 
horse and baggage, plunged into the river sword in hand. 
One of the galleys despatched a boat to his assistance, 
and fired on his pursuers, by which means Champe 
gained the shore without injury. 

Washington was highly pleased with the result of this 
adventure. The eagerness of the pursuit he thought 
would be decisive evidence to the British commander, 
that this was a real, and not a feigned desertion. Champe 
was immediately brought before sir Henry Clinton, and 
questioned by him on a variety of subjects, and amongst 
the rest, ifciny American officers were suspected of desertion, 
and who those officers were. The sergeant was forewarned 
on this point, and gave such answers as would more 
effectually mislead. After this examination he was 
consigned to the care of general Arnold, and by him 



CHAMPE. 99 

retained in his former rank. Washington hoped and 
believed, that the trial of Andre would occupy much 
time, and enable Champe to accomplish his designs. 
That gallant officer, disdaining all subterfuge, completely- 
foiled this hope, by broadly confessing the nature of his 
connexion with Arnold. The commander in chief of- 
fered to exchange Andre for Arnold, a proposal sir 
Henry Clinton, for obvious motives, declined. Had this 
gallant officer protracted his trial, and the plot proved 
successful, the life of Andre would have been saved, not 
by the intrigues of sir Henry Clinton, but of Washington^ 
in his favour. The honest and precipitate intrepidity of 
the British officer, defeated this benevolent project, and 
no alternative remained but a speedy death. The ser- 
geant, unfortunate as he was in this, was more success- 
iful in obtaining evidence the most full and satisfactory, 
that the suspicions resting on several American officers 
were foul calumnies, and a forgery of the enemy. He 
now determined on making one bold attempt for the 
seizure of Arnold. Having been allowed, at all times, 
free access to Arnold, marked all his habits and move- 
ments, he awaited only a favourable opportunity for the 
execution of his project. He had ascertained that Arnold 
usually retired to rest about twelve, and that previous 
to this, he spent some time in a private garden, adjoining 
his quarters. He was there to have been seized, bound, 
and gagged, and under the pretext that he was a soldier 
in a state of intoxication, to have been conveyed through 
by-paths and unsuspected places, to a boat lying in 
readiness, in the river Hudson. Champe engaged two 
confederates, and major Lee, who co-operated in the 
plan, received timely intelligence of the night fixed on 
for its execution. At the appointed time, that officer, 
attended by a small party well mounted, laid in wait the 
other side of the Hudson with two spare horses, one for 
Champe and the other for Arnold. The return of day- 
light announced the discomfiture of the plan, and Lee 
and his party returned to the camp with melancholy 
forebodings, that the life of the gallant sergeant had 
been sacrificed to his zeal in the service of his country. 
Consoling, however, was the intelligence shortly after 
received from the confederates, that on the night pre- 

LOFt 



100 CLARKE. 

ceding the one fixed on for Arnold's arrest, that officer 
had shifted his quarters. It appeared that he was em- 
ployed to superintend the embarkation of certain troops, 
composed chiefly of American deserters, and it was 
apprehended, that unless they were removed from their 
barracks, which were adjacent to the shore, many might 
seize that opportunity to escape. This attempt was 
never afterwards renewed. On the junction of Arnold 
with lord Cornwallis, in Virginia, the sergeant found 
means to elude the vigilance of the British lines, and to 
reach in safety the army of general Greene. Having 
been furnished by that officer with the means of escaping 
to Washington's camp, he arrived there, to the astonish- 
ment and joy of his old confederates in arms. 

When Washington assumed the command of the army 
under president Adams, he caused strict inquiry to be 
made for the man who had so honourably distinguished 
himself, intending to honour such tried fidelity with 
military promotion, and heard, to his great sorrow, that 
he had died but a short time before, in the state of Ken- 
tucky. These facts are taken and condensed from the 
interesting manuscript of major-general Lee. 



CLARKE, George Rogers, colonel in the service of 
Virginia, against the Indians, in the revolutionary war, 
was among the best soldiers, and better acquainted with 
the Indian warfare than any officer in the army. While 
his countrymen on the sea-board were contending with 
the British regulars, he was the efficient protector of 
the people of the frontiers of Virginia and Pennsylvania 
from the inroads of the savages. The history of his 
exploits would fill a volume ; and for hair-breadth escapes 
and hardy enterprise, would hardly have a parallel. We 
are only enabled to give an extract : 

The legislature of Virginia claiming the country con- 
quered by colonel Clarke, comprehended it within the 
new country, which they erected by the name of Illinois. 
A re^ment of infantry, and one troop of cavalry, were 



CLARKE. 101 

voted for its protection; the command of which was 
given to colonel Clarke, whose former regiment was 
dissolved, by the expiration of its term of service, and 
who well merited this new expression of public confi- 
dence, by the entire success of his late enterprises, by 
his known courage, by his uncommon hardihood, by 
his military talents, and by his singular capacity for 
Indian warfare. 

The families who came to the Falls of Ohio with colo- 
nel Clarke, in 1778, were the first settlers at that place. 
Considering their exposed situation on the extremity of 
Kentucky, detached seventy miles from the other settle- 
ments, and in the vicinity of several hostile tribes of In- 
dians, and British posts, it was deemed expedient to 
erect their first cabins on the principal island in the falls, 
and there they made corn in that year. 

Greatly were these adventurers interested in the suc- 
cess of colonel Clarke's expedition. Nor was it long 
before they heard of the fall of Kaskaskias. Pleasing 
as was this intelligence, it did not afford to them the 
wanted security. 

There was yet post St. Vincents, more immediately 
in their neighbourhood, and replenished with Indians. 
The capture of this place was to them the mandate of 
liberation from their insular situation, and an invitation 
to remove to the Kentucky shore. Hence the origin of 
the settlement at the site of Louisville. 

A stand being once made at the Falls, and the garri- 
son freed from the contracted and inconvenient limits 
of the island, soon accumulated strength from acces- 
sion of numbers, and importance from its becoming the 
residence of colonel Clarke, with his regiment. 

The year 1779 early felt, in various ways, the effect of 
colonel Clarke's expedition and success; a general con- 
fidence prevailed in the country, which extended itself 
abroad; and while it brought more emigrants into Ken- 
tucky, it encouraged an extension of the settlements. 
About the first of April, a block-house was built where 
Lexington now stands, and a new settlement began there 
under the auspices of Robert Patterson, who may be 
considered an early and meritorious adventurer, much 
engaged in the defence of the country ; and who w&» 
I 2 



10$ CLARKK. 

aft€rward9 promoted to the rank of colonel. Several per- 
sons raised corn at the place that year, and in the au- 
tumn, John Morrison, afterwards a major, removed his 
family from Harrodsburg, and Mrs. Morrison was the 
first white woman at Lexington ; so named to commemo- 
rate the battle at Lexington, the first which took place 
in the war of the revolution. 

In this year, colonel Clarke descended the Ohio, with 
a part of his regiment, and after entering the Mississip- 
pi, at the first high land on the eastern bank, landed the 
troops, and built fort Jefferson. 

In a military view, this position was well chosen ; and 
had it been well fortified, and furnished with cannon, 
would have commanded the river. Without a doubt, at 
some future day, it will be a place of great importance 
in the western country. It is within the limits of Ken- 
tucky, and never should be alienated. A suitable garri- 
son at that place, should it ever be necessary, would hold 
in check both the upper and lower Mississippi. 

In 1781, colonel Clarke received a general's commis- 
sion, and had the chief command in Kentucky. A row- 
galley was constructed under his direction, which was 
to ply up and down the Ohio, as a moving battery for 
the north-western frontier, and which is supposed to 
have had a very good effect in frightening the Indians, 
for none dared to attack it ; nor were they so free as 
theretofore in crossing the river: indeed, there is a tra- 
dition, that its passage up the Ohio once as far as the 
mouth of Licking, had the effect to stop an expedition, 
which a formidable party of Indians had commenced 
against Kentucky 

The character of this veteran is well developed in the 
following extract, recently published, from the " Notes 
of an old officer:*' 

" The Indians came into the treaty at fort Washing- 
ton in the most friendly manner, except the Shawahanees, 
the most conceited and most warlike of the aborigines, 
the first in at a battle, the last at a treaty. Three hun- 
dred of their finest warriors, set off in all their paint and 
feathers, filed into the council house. Their number and 
demeanour, so unusual at an occasion of this sort, was 



CLARKE. 103 

altogether unexpected and suspicious. The United 
States* stockade mustered seventy men. 

" In the centre of the hall, at a little table, sat the com- 
missary general Clarke, the indefatigable scourge of 
these very marauders ; general Richard Butler, and Mr. 
Parsons ; there were present also, a captain Denny, who, 
I believe, is still alive, and can attest this story. On the 
part of the Indians an old council sachem and a war 
chief took the lead : the latter, a tall, raw-boned fellow, 
with an impudent and villanous look, made a Iwisterous 
and threatening speech, which operated effectually on 
the passions of the Indians, who set up a prodigious 
whoop at every pause. He concluded by presenting a 
black and white wampum, to signify they were prepared 
for either event, peace or war. Clarke exhibited the 
same unaltered and careless countenance he had shown 
during the whole scene, his head leaning on his left 
hand, and his elbow resting on the table: he raised his 
little cane and pushed the sacred wampum off the table 
with very little ceremony ; every Indian at the same mo- 
ment started from his seat with one of those strange, 
simultaneous, and peculiarly savage sounds, which startle 
and disconcert the stoutest heart, and can neither be de- 
scribed nor forgotten. 

" Parsons, more civil than military in his habits, was 
tjoorly fitted for an emergency that probably embarrassed 
even the hero of Saratoga, the brother and father of sol- 
diers. At this juncture Clarke rose ; the scrutinizing eye 
cowered at his glance ; he stamped his foot on the pros- 
trate and insulted symbol, and ordered them to leave the 
hall. They did so, apparently involuntary. 

" They were heard all that night debating in the bushes 
near the fort. The raw-boned chief was for war, the old 
sachem for peace: the latter prevailed; and the next 
morning they came back and sued for peace.'* 

General Clarke died at his seat, at Locust Grove, near 
Louisville, Kentucky, on the 13th of February, 1817, in 
the sixty-sixth year of his age. He had justly acquired 
the appellation of the father of the western country. A 
newspaper, in his immediate neighbourhood, thus feel- 
ingly noticed his death: 

" Could our feeble talents enable us to delineate the 



104 ctlNTON. 

distinguished acts of patriotism, of valour, and philan- 
thropy, that characterized the existence of this illustri- 
ous chief, what a spectacle would we present to the 
admiring world! While basking in the sunshine of 
wealth and political glory, can we be unmindful that 
these are the proud trophies bequeathed us by the toils 
and valour of this illustrious man ? Early in life he em- 
barked in the cause of his country. This western coun- 
try was the great theatre of his actions. Bold and 
enterpri^ng, he was not to be dismayed by the dangers 
and difficulties that threatened him, by a force in num- 
ber far his superior, and removed to a region never be- 
fore trodden by a civilized American. He estimated the 
value of its favourable result; he relied on his skill and 
courage ; he knew the fidelity of his little band of asso- 
ciates, and, for him, it was enough. With this little band 
of Spartans, he is seen piercing the gloom of the seques- 
tered forests, illuminating them in quick succession with 
the splendour of his victories, and early inviting his 
countrymen to a residence his courage and skill had pur- 
chased for them." 






CLINTON, James, was the fourth son of colonel 
Charles Clinton, and was born on Thursday, the 19th 
of August, 1736, at the house of his father, in Ulster 
county, in the colony of New York. In common with 
his brothers, he was favoured with an excellent educa- 
tion. The study of the exact sciences was his favourite 
pursuit ; but the predominant inclination of his mind 
was to a military life. 

In the critical and eventful affairs of nations, when 
their rights and their interests are invaded, and when 
the most daring attempts are made to reduce them to do- 
mestic tyranny or foreign subjugation, Providence, in the 
plenitude of its beneficence, has generally provided men 
qualified to lead the van of successful resistance, and has 
infused a redeeming spirit into the community, which 
enabled it to rise superior to the calamities that menaced 



CLINTON. 105 

its liberty and its prosperity. The characters designed 
for these important ends, are statesmen and soldiers. 
The first devise plans in the cabinet, and the second exe- 
cute them in the field. At the commencement of the 
American revolution, and during its progress to a glo- 
rious consummation, constellations of illustrious men 
appeared in the councils and the armies of the nation, 
illuminating by their wisdom, and upholding by their 
energy: drawing forth the resources and vindicating the 
rights of America. In defiance of the most appalling 
considerations, liberty or death was inscribed on the 
heart of every patriot; and, drawing the sword, he con- 
secrated it to the cause of heaven and his country, and 
determined to die or to conquer. 

Amidst the gallant soldiers, whose services were de- 
manded by the emergencies of the American revolution, 
James Clinton, the subject of this memoir, was always 
conspicuous. To an iron constitution and invincible 
courage, he added the military experience which he ac- 
quired in the war of 1756, where he established his cha- 
racter as an intrepid and skilful officer, and the military 
knowledge which he obtained after the peace of 1763, by 
a close attention to the studies connected with his fa- 
vourite profession. 

On the 31st of January, 1756, he was appointed by 
governor sir Charles Hardy, an ensign in the second 
regiment of militia for the county of Ulster; on the 25th 
March, 1758, by lieutenant-governor Delancey, a lieu- 
tenant of a company in the pay of the province of New 
York; on the 7th March, 1759, by the same lieutenant- 
governor, a captain of a company of provincial troops ; 
and in the three following years he was successively re- 
appointed to the same station. On the 15th November, 
1763, he was appointed by lieutenant-governor Colden, 
captain commandant of the four companies in the pay 
of the province of New York, raised for the defence of 
the western frontiers of the counties of Ulster and 
Orange, and captain of one of the said companies; and 
on the 18th March, 1774, lieutenant-colonel of the second 
regiment of militia, in Ulster county. This detail is 
entered into, not from a spirit of ostentation, but to show 
that he rose gradually, and from step to step, in his 



106 CLINTON. 

profession ; not by intrigue, for he had none ; nor by the 
influence of his family, for they were generally in oppo- 
sition to the administration; but by the force of merit, 
developing itself in the progress of time, and by the en- 
tire confidence justly reposed in his integrity, courage, 
and skill. 

In the war of 1756, commonly denominated the French 
war, he encountered with cheerfulness the fatigues and 
dangers of a military life. He was a captain under colo- 
nel Bradstreet, at the capture of fort Frontenac, and he 
rendered essential service in that expedition in many 
respects, and particularly by the capture of a sloop of 
war on lake Ontario, which impeded the progress of the 
army. His company was placed in row-galleys, and, 
favoured by a calm, compelled the French vessel to strike 
after an obstinate resistance. His designation as captain 
commandant of the four companies, raised for the pro- 
tection of the western frontiers of the counties of Orange 
and Ulster, was a post of great responsibility and hazard, 
and demonstrated the confidence of the government. The 
safety of a line of settlements, extending at least fifty 
miles, was intrusted to his vigilance and intrepidity. 
The ascendency of the French over the ruthless savages, 
was always predominant, and the inhabitant of the fron- 
tiers was compelled to hold the plough with one hand, 
for his sustenance, and to grasp his gun with the other 
for his defence ; and he was constantly in danger of being 
awakened, in the hour of darkness, by the war-whoop 
of the savages, to witness the conflagration of his dwell- 
ing, and the murder of his family. 

After the termination of the French war, Mr. Chnton 
married Mary De Witt, a young lady of extraordinary 
merit, whose ancestors emigrated from Holland, and 
whose name proclaims their respectability; and he re- 
tired from the camp to enjoy the repose of domestic life. 

When the American revolution was on the eve of its 
commencement, he was appointed on the 30th June, 1775, 
by the continental congress, colonel of the 3d regiment 
of New York forces. On the 25th of October following, 
he was appointed by the provincial congress of New 
York, colonel of the regiment of foot in Ulster county ; 
on the 8th of March, 1776, by the continental congress, 



CLINTON. 107 

colonel of the second battalion of New York troops ; 
and on the 9th of August, 1776, a brigadier-general in 
the army of the United States, in which station he con- 
tinued during the greater part of the war, having the 
command of the New York line, or the troops of that 
state, and at its close he was constituted a major-general. 

In 1775, his regiment composed part of the army un- 
der general Montgomery, which invaded Canada; and 
he participated in all the fatigue'=?, dangers, and priva- 
tions of that celebrated, but unfortunate, expedition. 

In October, 1777, he commanded at fort Clinton, 
which, together with its neighbour, fort Montgomery, 
constituted the defence of the Hudson river, against the 
ascent of an enemy. His brother, the governor, com- 
manded in chief at both forts. Sir Henry Clinton, with 
a view to create a diversion in favour of general Bur- 
goyne, moved up the Hudson with an army of 4000 men, 
and attacked those works, which were very imperfectly 
fortified, and only defended by 500 men, composed prin- 
cipally of militia. After a most gallant resistance, the 
forts were carried by storm. General Clinton was the 
last man who left the works, and not until he was se- 
verely wounded by the thrust of a bayonet, pursued and 
fired at by the enemy, and his attending servant killed. 
He bled profusely, and when he dismounted from his 
war horse, in order to effect his escape from the enemy, 
who were close on him, it occurred to him that he must 
either perish on the mountains, or be captured, unless 
he could supply himself with another horse ; an animal 
which sometimes roamed at large in that wild region. 
In this emergency he took the bridle from his horse, and 
slid down a precipice of one hundred feet to the ravine 
of the creek which separated the forts, and feeling cau- 
tiously his way along its precipitous banks, he reached 
the mountain at a distance from the enemy, after having 
fallen into the stream, the cold water of which arrested 
a copious effusion of blood. The return of light fur- 
nished him with the sight of a horse, which conveyed 
him to his house, about sixteen miles from the fort, 
where he arrived about noon, covered with blood, and 
labouring under a severe fever. In his helpless condition 



108 CLINTON. 

the British passed up the Hudson, within a few miles 
of his house, and destroyed the town of Kingston. 

The cruel ravages and horrible irruptions of the Iro- 
quois, or six nations of Indians, on our frontier settle- 
ments, rendered it necessary to inflict a terrible chas- 
tisement, which would prevent a repetition of their 
atrocities. An expedition was accordingly planned, and 
the principal command was committed to general Sulli- 
van, who was to proceed up the Susquehanna, with the 
main body of the army, while general Clinton was to 
join him by the way of the Mohawk. 

The Iroquois inhabited, or occasionally occupied, that 
immense and fertile region which composes the western 
parts of New York and Pennsylvania, and besides their 
own ravages, from the vicinity of their settlements to 
the inhabited parts of the United States, they facilitated 
the inroads of the more remote Indians. When general 
Sullivan was on his way to the Indian country, he was 
joined by general Clinton with upwards of sixteen hun- 
dred men. The latter had gone up the Mohawk in bat- 
teaux, from Schenectady, and after ascending that river 
about fifty-four miles, he conveyed his batteaux from 
Canajoharie to the head of Otsego lake, one of the 
sources of the Susquehanna. Finding the stream of 
water in that river too low to float his boats, he erected 
a dam across the mouth of the lake, which soon rose to 
the altitude of the dam. Having got his batteaux ready, 
he opened a passage through the dam for the water to 
flow. This raised the river so high, that he was enabled 
to embark all his troops: to float them down to Tioga, 
and to join general Sullivan in good season. The Indians 
collected their strength at Newtown, took possession of 
proper ground, and fortified it with judgment, and on 
the 29th August, 1779, an attack was made on them; 
their works were forced, and their consternation was so 
great, that they abandoned all further resistance; for, as 
the Americans advanced into their settlements, they re- 
treated before them without throwing any obstructions 
in their way. The army passed between the Cayuga and 
Seneca lakes, by Geneva and Canandaigua, and as far 
west as the Genessee river, destroying large settlements 
and villages, and fields of corn, orchards of fruit trees, 



CLINTON. 109 

and gardens abounding with esculent vegetables. The 
progress of the Indians in agriculture, struck the Ame- 
ricans with astonishment. Many of their ears of corn 
measured 22 inches in length. They had horses, cows, 
and hogs, in abundance. They manufactured salt and 
sugar, and raised the best of apples and peaches, and 
their dwellings were large and commodious. The deso- 
lation of their settlements, the destruction of their pro- 
visions, and the conflagration of their houses, drove them 
to the British fortress of Niagara for subsistence, where, 
living on salt provisions, to which they were unaccus- 
tomed, they died in great numbers, and the effect of this 
expedition was, to diminish their population, to damp 
their ardour, to check their arrogance, to restrain their 
cruelty, and to inflict an irrecoverable blow on their re- 
sources of extensive aggression. 

For a considerable portion of the war, general Clinton 
was stationed at Albany, where he commanded, in the 
northern department of the Union, a place of high re- 
sponsibility, and requiring uncommon vigilance and 
continual exertion. An incident occurred, when on this 
command, which strongly illustrates his character. A 
regiment which had been ordered to march, mutinied 
under arms, and peremptorily refused obedience. The 
general, on being apprized of this, immediately repaired 
with his pistols to the ground : he went up to the head 
of the regiment and ordered it to march: a silence en- 
sued, and the order was not complied with. He then 
presented a pistol to the breast of a sergeant, who was 
the ringleader, and commanded him to proceed on pain 
of death, and so on in succession along the line ; and his 
command was, in every instance, obeyed, and the regi- 
ment restored to entire and complete subordination and 
submission. 

General Clinton was at the siege of Yorktown, and the 
capture of Cornwallis, where he distinguished himself 
by his usual intrepidity. 

His last appearance in arms, was on the evacuation 
of the city of New York, by the British. He then bid 
the commander in chief a final and affecti!bnate adieu, 
and retired to his ample estates, where he enjoyed that 



i 10 CLINTON. 

repose which was required by a long period of fatigue 
and privation. 

He was, however, frequently called from his retirement 
by the unsolicited vote of his fellow-citizens, to perform 
civic duties. He was appointed a commissioner to ad- 
just the boundary line between Pennsylvania and New 
York, which important measure was amicably and suc- 
cessfully accomplished. He was also selected by the 
legislature for an interesting mission to settle controver- 
sies about lands in the west, which also terminated fa- 
vourably. He represented his native county in the 
assembly, and in the convention that adopted the present 
constitution of the United States, and he was elected, 
without opposition, a senator from the middle district; 
all M^iich trusts he executed with perfect integrity, with 
solid intelligence, and with the full approbation of his 
constituents. 

The temper of general Clinton was mild and aifection- 
ate, but when raised by unprovoked or unmerited injury, 
he exhibited extraordinary and appalling energy. In 
battle he was as cool and as collected as if sitting by his 
fireside. Nature intended him for a gallant and efficient 
soldier, when she endowed him with the faculty of entire 
self-possession in the midst of the greatest dangers. 

He died on the 22nd of December, 1812, and was in- 
terred in the family burial place in Orange county, and 
his monumental stone bears the following inscription : 

'* Underneath are interred the remains of James Clin- 
ton, esquire. 

"He was born the 9th of August, 1736, and died the 
22nd of December, 1812. 

''His life was principally devoted to the military ser- 
vice of his country, and he had filled with fidelity and 
honour, several distinguished civil offices. 

"He was an officer in the revolutionary war, and the 
war preceding; and, at the close of the former, was a 
major-general in the army of the United States. He was 
a good man and a sincere patriot, performing, in the 
most exemplary manner, all the duties of life; and he 
died, as he lived, without fear, and without reproach." 



CLINTON. 1 1 1 

CLINTON, George, formerly governor of the state 
of New York, and vice-president of the United States, 
was born on the 26th July, 1739, in the county of Ulster, 
in the colony of New York. He was the youngest son 
of colonel Charles Clinton, an emigrant from Ireland, 
and a gentleman of distinguished worth and high con- 
sideration. 

He was educated, principally, under the eye of his 
father, and received the instruction of a learned minister 
of the presbyterian church, who had graduated in the 
university of Aberdeen: and, after reading law, in the 
office of William Smith, afterwards chief justice of 
Canada, he settled himself in that profession in the coun- 
ty of his nativity, where he rose to eminence. 

In 1768, he took his seat as one of the members of 
the colonial assembly, for the coimty of Ulster, and he 
continued an active member of that body until it was 
merged in the revolution. His energy of character, dis- 
criminating intellect, and undaunted courage, placed him 
among the chiefs of the whig party, and he was always 
considered possessed of a superior mind and master 
spirit, on which his country might rely, as an asylum in 
the most gloomy periods of her fortunes. 

On the 22nd of April, 1775, he was chosen by the pro- 
vincial convention of New York, one of the delegates to 
the continental congress, and took his seat in that illus- 
trious body on the 15th of May. On the 4th of July, 
1776, he was present at the glorious declaration of in- 
dependence, and assented, with his usual energy and de- 
cision, to that measure; but having been appointed a 
brigadier-general in the militia, and also in the army, 
the exigencies of his country, at that trying hour, ren- 
dered it necessary for him to take the field in person, 
and he therefore retired from congress immediately after 
his vote was given, and before the instrument was tran- 
scribed for the signature of the members, for which rea- 
son his name does not appear among the signers. 

A constitution having been adopted for the state of 
New York on the 20th April, 1777, he was chosen at the 
first election under it, both governor and lieutenant- 
governor, and he was continued in the former office for 
eighteen years, by triennial elections; when, owing to 



1 1 2 CLINTON. 

ill health, and a respect for the republican principle of 
rotation in office, he declined a re-election. 

During the revolutionary war, he cordially co-operated 
with the immortal Washington, and without his aid, the 
army would have been disbanded, and the northern se- 
parated from the southern states, by the intervention of 
British troops. He was always at his post in the times 
that tried men's souls : at one period repelling the ad- 
vances of the enemy from Canada, and at another, meet- 
ing them in battle when approaching from the south. 
His gallant defence of fort Montgomery, with a handful 
of men, against a powerful force commanded by sir Hen- 
ry Clinton, was equally honourable to his intrepidity and 
his skill. 

The following are the particulars of his gallant con- 
duct at the storming of forts Montgomery and Clinton, 
ill October, 1777: 

" When the British reinforcements under general Ro- 
bertson, amounting to nearly 2000 men, arrived from 
Europe, sir Henry Clinton used the greatest exertion, 
and availed himself of every favourable circumstance, 
to put these troops into immediate operation. Many 
were sent to suitable vessels, and united in the expedi- 
tion, which consisted of about 4000 men, against the 
forts in the highlands. Having made the necessary ar- 
rangements, he moved up the North river, and landed 
on the 4th of October at Tarry-town, purposely to im- 
press general Putnam, under whose command a thousand 
continental troops had been left, with a belief, that his 
post at Peek's-kill was the object of attack. At eight 
o'clock at night, the general communicated the intelli- 
gence to governor Clinton of the arrival of the British, 
and at the same time expressed his opinion respecting 
their destination. The designs of sir Henry were im- 
mediately perceived by the governor, who prorogued the 
assembly on the following day, and arrived that night 
at fort Montgomery. The British troops, in the mean 
time, were secretly conveyed across the river, and as- 
saults upon our forts were meditated to be made on the 
6th, which were accordingly put in execution, by at- 
tacking the American advanced party at Doodletown, 
about two miles and a half from fort Montgomery. The 



CLINTON. ilo 

Americans received the fire of the British, and retreated 
to fort Clinton. The enemy then advanced to the west 
side of the mountain, in order to attack our troops in the 
rear. Governor Clinton immediately ordered out a de- 
tachment of one hundred men toward Doodletown, and 
another of sixty, with a brass field piece, to an eligible 
spot on another road. They were both soon attacked by 
the whole force of the enemy, and compelled to fall back. 
It has been remarked, that the talents, as well as the tem- 
per of a commander, are put to as severe a test in con- 
ducting a retreat, as in achieving a victory. The truth 
of this, governor Clinton experienced, when, with great 
bravery, and the most perfect order, he retired till he 
reached the fort. He lost no time in placing his men 
in the best manner that circumstances would permit. 
His post, however, as well as fort Clinton, in a few mi- 
nutes, were invaded on every side. In the midst of this 
disheartening and appalling disaster, he was summoned, 
when the sun Avas only an hour high, to surrender in five 
minutes; but his gallant spirit sternly refused to obey 
the call. In a short time after, the British made a ge- 
neral and most desperate attack on both posts, Avhich 
was received by the Americans with undismayed cour- 
age and resistance. Officers and men, militia and con- 
tinentals, all behaved alike brave. An incessant fire was 
kept up till dusk, when our troops were overpowered by 
numbers, who forced the lines and redoubts at both 
posts. Many of the Americans fought their way out; 
others accidentally mixed with the enemy, and thus made 
their escape eff'ectually; for, besides being favoured by 
the night, they knew the various avenues in the moun- 
tains. The governor, as well as his brother, general 
James Clinton, who was wounded, were not taken." 

The administration of governor Clinton, was charac- 
terized by wisdom and patriotism. He was a republican 
in principle and practice. After a retirement of five 
years, he was called by the citizens of the city and coun- 
ty of New York, to represent them in the assembly of 
the state ; and to his influence and popularity, may be 
ascribed, in a great degree, the change in his native state, 
which finally produced the important political revolution 
of 1801. 

K 2 



114 I>AVIE. 

At that period, much against his inclination, but from 
motives of patriotism, he consented to an election as 
governor, and in 1805, he was chosen vice-president of 
the United States, in which office he continued until his 
death, presiding with great dignity in the senate, and 
evincing by his votes and his opinions, his decided hos- 
tility to constructive authority, and to innovations on 
the established principles of republican government. 

He died at Washington, when attending to his duties 
as vice-president, and was interred in that city, where a 
monument was erected by the filial piety of his children, 
with this inscription, written by his nephew; 

" To the memory of George Clinton. He was born in 
the state of New York, on the 26th of July, 1739, and 
died in the city of Washington, on the 20th April, 1812, 
in the 73d year of his age. He was a soldier and states- 
man of the revolution. Eminent in council, and distin- 
guished in war, he filled, with unexampled usefulness, 
purity, and ability, among many other offices, those of 
governor of his native state, and of vice-president of the 
United States. While he lived, his virtue, wisdom, and 
valour, were the pride, the ornament, and security of his 
country ; and when he died, he left an illustrious example 
of a well-spent life, worthy of all imitation." 

There are few men who will occupy as renowned a 

place in the history of his country as George Clinton; 

md the progress of time will increase the public vene- 

ation, and thicken the laurels that cover his monument. 



DAVIE, William Richardson, of North Carolina, 
was born in the village of Egremont, near White Haven, 
in England, on the 20th June, 1756. 

His father, visiting South Carolina soon after the 
peace of 1763, brought with him this son; and, returning 
to England, confided him to the care of the reverend 
"William Richardson, his maternal uncle; who, becom- 
ing much attached to his nephew, not only took charge 
of his education, but adopted him as his son and heir. At 



DAVIE. 1 1 5 

the proper age, William was sent to an academy in 
North Carolina, from whence he was, after a few years, 
removed to the college of Nassau-hall, in Princeton, New 
Jersey, then becoming the resort of most of the southern 
youth, under the auspices of the learned and respectable 
doctor Witherspoon. Here he finished his education, 
graduating in the autumn of 1776, a year memorable in 
our military, as well as civil annals. 

Returning home, young Davie found himself shut out 
for a time from the army, as the commissions for the 
troops just levied had been issued. He went to Salis- 
bury, where he commenced the study of the law. The 
war continuing, contrary to the expectation which gene- 
rally prevailed when it began, Davie could no longer re- 
sist his ardent wish to plant himself among the defend- 
ers of his country. Inducing a worthy and popular 
friend, rather too old for military service, to raise a troop 
of dragoons, as the readiest mode of accomplishing his 
wish, Davie obtained a lieutenancy in this troop. With- 
out delay the captain joined the south army, and soon 
afterwards returned home on furlough. The command 
of the troop devolving on lieutenant Davie, it was at his 
request annexed to the legion of count Pulaski, where 
captain Davie continued, until promoted by major-gene- 
ral Lincoln, to the station of brigade-major of cavalry. 
In this office Davie served until the affair of Stono, de- 
voting his leisure to the acquirement of professional 
knowledge, and rising fast in the esteem of the general 
and army. When Lincoln attempted to dislodge lieu- 
tenant-colonel Maitland from his intrenched camp on 
the Stono, Davie received a severe wound, and was re- 
moved from camp to the hospital in Charleston, where 
he was confined for five months. 

Soon after his recovery he was empowered by the 

government of North Carolina, to raise a small legionary 

corps, consisting of one troop of dragoons, and two com- 

^pames of mounted infantry, at the head of which he was 

placed with the rank of major. 

Quickly succeeding in completing his corps, in whose 
equipment he expended the last remaining shilling of an 
estate bequeathed to him by his uncle, he took the field, 
and was sedulously engaged in protecting the country 



1 1 6 DAVIE. 

between Charlotte and Cambden, from the enemy's pre- 
datory incursions. On the fatal 16th of August, he was 
hastening with his corps to join our army, when he met 
our dispersed and flying troops. He nevertheless con- 
tinued to advance towards the conqueror, and by his 
prudence, zeal, and vigilance, saved a few of our wagons, 
and many of our stragglers. Acquainted with the move- 
ment of Sumpter, and justly apprehending that he would 
be destroyed unless speedily advised of the defeat of 
Gates, he despatched instantly a courier to that officer, 
communicating what had happened, performing, in the 
midst of distress and confusion, the part of an experi- 
enced captain. The abandonment of all the southern 
region of North Carolina, which followed this signal 
overthrow, and the general despondency which prevail- 
ed, is well known, and have been recorded; nor have the 
fortunate and active services of miajor Davie been over- 
looked. So much was his conduct respected by the go- 
vernment of North Carolina, that he was, in the course 
of September, promoted to the rank of colonel com- 
mandant of the cavalry of the state. ] 
In this station he was found by general Greene on as- I 
suming the command of the southern army; whose at- 
tention had been occupied from his entrance into North 
Carolina, in remedying the disorder in the quarter-mas- 
ter and commissary departments. To the first, Carring- 
ton had been called, and Davie was now induced to take 
upon himself the last, much as he preferred the station 
he then possessed. At the head of this department colo- 
nel Davie remained throughout the trying campaign 
which followed, contributing greatly by his talents, his 
zeal, his local knowledge, and his influence, to the main- 
tainance of the difficult and successful operations which 
followed. While before Ninety-Six, Greene, foreseeing 
the difficulties again to be encountered, in consequence 
of the accession of force to the enemy by the arrival 'of 
three regiments of infantry from Ireland, determined to 
send a confidential officer to the legislature of North 
Carolina, then in session, to represent to them his rela- 
tive condition, and to urge their adoption of effectual 
measures without delay, for the collection of magazines 
of provisions, and the reinforcing of his army. Colonel 



DAVIE. 117 

Davie was selected by Greene for this important mis- 
sion, and immediately repaired to the seat of government, 
where he ably and faithfully exerted himself to give ef- 
fect to the views of his general. 

The events of the autumn assuring the quick approach 
of peace, colonel Davie returned home, and having 
shortly afterwards intermarried with miss Sarah Jones, 
daughter of general Allen Jones, of North Carolina, he 
selected the town of Halifax, on the Roanoke, for his re- 
sidence, where he resumed his profession, the practice 
of law. 

At the bar, colonel Davie soon rose to great eminence; 
and, indeed, in a few years, became one of its principal 
leaders and ornaments. He was possessed of great saga- 
city, profound knowledge, and masculine eloquence. His 
manners were conciliatory, but imposing and com- 
manding. 

The university of North Carolina is mainly indebted 
to his exertions, and to his labours, for its establishment, 
and for the assignment of permanent landed property for 
its support. Colonel Davie was extremely anxious upon 
this subject, and exerted the utmost powers of his per- 
suasive and commanding eloquence, to ensure success. 
He was deeply sensible of the extreme importance of 
extending, as widely as possible, the advantages of libe- 
ral education, that there might be a perpetual succession 
of enlightened and liberal men, qualified to administer 
the affairs of this great and increasing people with wis- 
dom and dignity. He considered the public liberty inse- 
cure, and liable to be disturbed by perpetual factions, 
unless education be widely diffused. 

Colonel Davie was now appointed a major-general in 
the militia of North Carolina, and some time after, in 
the year 1799, was elected governor of that state; the 
duties of which station he performed with his accus- 
tomed firmness and wisdom. He was not, however, per- 
mitted to remain long in that station. His country had 
higher claims on his talents and services. 

The venerable Mr. Adams, then president of the Unit- 
ed States, anxious to make one more effort to put an end 
to the differences which subsisted between this country 
and France, associated general Davie with Mr. Ells- 



118 DAVlfi. 

worth and Mr. Murray, as his ambassadors on a mis* 
sion to France for that purpose. 

Soon after his return to America, general Davie lost 
his wife, a lady of lofty mind, and exemplary virtues, to 
whom he was greatly attached. 

When war took place between this country and Bri- 
tain, in 1812, general Davie was offered by the govern- 
ment of his country, a high command in the army. But 
his increasing infirmities admonished him not to assume 
duties beyond his strength, which might prejudice the 
service, instead of promoting it. The wounds received 
in the revolutionary war, and the rheumatism from long 
exposure during his service, became fixed on his con- 
stitution, and rendered him incapable of those active 
exertions which his high sense of duty would have 
exacted from him as a commander. He, therefore, 
declined the honour offered him, after a good deal of 
hesitation. 

At home, and in his own neighbourhood, general Da- 
vie was revered with the highest filial piety. He was the 
friend of the distressed, the safe counsellor of the em- 
barrassed, and the peacemaker of all. His own charac- 
ter, free from every spot or stain, gave a power to his 
interpositions, which was irresistible. 

General Davie had a deep, and even an awful sense of 
God and his providence: and was attached to the prin- 
ciples and doctrines of Christianity. But he had not at- 
tached himself, as an avowed member, to any particular 
sect. He thought they generally dogmatized too much, 
and shut the door of christian charity too closely. He 
devised a proper site on his estate for the erection of a 
place of worship, to be erected by any christian society, 
which should choose to put up a suitable building 
thereon. 

He was a tall man, of fine proportions, his figure erect 
and commanding, his countenance possessing great ex- 
pression, and his voice full and energetic. Indeed, his 
whole appearance struck the beholder at once, as indi- 
cating no ordinary man, and the reality exceeded the 
appearance. 

Such was the man who has been taken from his af- 
flicted family, his friends, and his country. He met death 



DICKINSON. 1 19 

■with the firmness of a soldier, and of a man conscious 
of a life well spent. His memory is cherished by his 
family and friends, with the most enthusiastic attach- 
ment. The good he did survives him; and he has left a 
noble example to the youth of his country, to encourage 
and to stimulate them in the honourable career of virtue 
and of exertion. May it be appreciated and followed. 



DICKINSON, John, a distinguished political writer 
and friend of his country, was the son of Samuel Dick- 
inson, esquire, of Delaware. He was a member of the 
assembly of Pennsylvania, in 1764, and of the general 
congress, in 1765. In November, 1767, he began to 
publish his celebrated letters against the acts of the Bri- 
tish parliament, laying duties on paper, glass, 8cc. They 
supported the liberties of his country, and contributed 
much to the American revolution. He was a member 
of the first congress, in 1774, and the petition to the 
king, which was adopted at this time, and is considered 
as an elegant composition, was written by him. 

He was the author of the declaration adopted by the 
congress of 1775, setting forth the causes and necessity 
of their taking up arms, which declaration was directed 
to be published by general Washington, upon his arrival 
at the camp before Boston, in July, 1775. He also wrote 
the second petition to the king, adopted by the same 
congress, stating the merits of their claims, and solicit- 
ing the royal interposition for an accommodation of dif- 
ferences on just principles. These several addresses 
were executed in a masterly manner, and were well cal- 
culated to make friends to the colonies. But their peti- 
tion to the king, which was drawn up at the same time, 
produced more solid advantages in favour of the Ameri- 
can cause, than any other of their productions. This 
was, in a great measure, carried through congress by 
Mr. Dickinson. Several members, judging from the 
violence with which parliament proceeded against the 
colonies, were of opinion, that farther petitions were 



120 DICKINSON 

nugatory ; but this worthy citizen, a friend to both coun- 
tries, and devoted to a reconciliation on constitutional 
principles, urged the expediency and policy of trying, 
once more, the effect of an humble, decent, and firm pe- 
tition, to the common head of the empire. The high 
opinion that was conceived of his patriotism and abili- 
ties, induced the members to assent to the measure, 
though they generally conceived it to be labour lost. 

In June, 1776, he opposed, openly, and upon principle, 
the declaration of independence, when the motion was 
considered by congress. His arguments were answered 
by John Adams, Richard Henry Lee, of Virginia, and 
others, who advocated a separation from Great Britain. 
The part which Mr. Dickinson took in this debate, oc- 
casioned his recall from congress, as his constituents did 
not coincide with him in political views, and he was 
absent several years. Perceiving, at length, that his 
countrymen were unalterably fixed in their system of 
independence, he fell in with it, and was as zealous in 
supporting it in congress, about the year 1780, as any 
of the members. He was president of Pennsylvania from 
November, 1782, to October, 1785, and was succeeded 
in this ofiice by Dr. Franklin. Soon after 1785, it is 
believed, he removed to Delaware, by which state he was 
appointed a member of the old congress, and of which 
state he Avas president. 

The following is an extract from an address of con- 
gress, to the several states, dated May 26, 1779, which 
wus also from the pen of Mr. Dickinson: 

"Infatuated as your enemies have been from the be- 
ginning of this contest, do you imagine they can now 
flatter themselves with a hope of conquering you, unless 
you are false to yourselves ? 

" When unprepared, undisciplined, and unsupported, 
you opposed their fleets and armies in full conjoined 
force, then, if at any time, was conquest to be appre- 
hended. Yet, what progress towards it have their vio- 
lent and incessant efforts made? Judge from their own 
conduct. Having devoted you to bondage, and after 
vainly wasting their blood and treasure in the disho- 
nourable enterprise, they deigned at length to offer terms 
of accommodation, with respectful addresses, to that 



DICKINSON. 121 

once despised body, the congress, whose humble suppli- 
cations, only for peace, liberty, and safety, they had con- 
temptuously rejected, under pretence of its being an 
unconstitutional assembly. Nay, more, desirous of se- 
ducing you into a deviation from the paths of rectitude, 
from which they had so far and so rashly wandered, they 
made most specious offers to tempt you into a vio- 
lation of your faith given to your illustrious ally. Their 
arts were as unavailing as their arms. Foiled again, and 
stung with rage, embittered by envy, they had no alter- 
native, but to renounce the inglorious and ruinous con- 
troversy, or to resume their former modes of prosecuting 
it. They chose the latter. Again the savages are stimu^ 
lated to horrid massacres of women and children, and 
domestics to the murder of their masters. Again our 
brave and unhappy brethren are doomed to miserable 
deaths, in jails and prison^ships. To complete the san- 
guinary system, all the "extremities of war" are by 
authority denounced against you. 

"Piously endeavour to derive this consolation from 
their remorseless fury, that "the Father of mercies" 
looks down with disapprobation on such audacious de- 
fiances of his holy laws; and be further comforted with 
recollecting, that the arms assumed by you in your 
righteous cause, have not been sullied by any unjustifia- 
ble severities. 

" Your enemies, despairing, however, as it seems, of 
the success of their united forces against our main army, 
have divided them, as if their design was to harass you 
by predatory, desultory operations. If you are assiduous 
in improving opportunities, Saratoga may not be the 
only spot on this continent to give a new denominatioa 
to the baffled troops of a nation, impiously priding her- 
self in notions of her omnipotence. 

"Rouse yourselves, therefore, that this campaign may 
finish the great work you have so nobly carried on for 
several years past. What nation ever engaged in such 
a contest, «under such a complication of disadvantages, 
so soon surmounted many of them, and in so short a 
period of time had so certain a prospect of aispeedy and 
happy conclusion. We will venture to pronounce, ^hat 
so remarkable an instance exists not in the annals of 



122 DICKINSON. 

mankind. We well remember what you said at the com- 
mencement of this war. You saw the immense differ- 
ence between your circumstances, and those of your 
enemies, and you knew the quarrel must decide on no 
less than your lives, liberties, and estates. All these you 
greatly put to every hazard, resolving rather to die free- 
men than to live slaves; and justice will oblige the im- 
partial world to confess you have uniformly acted on the 
same generous principle. Consider how much you have 
done, and how comparatively little remains to be done 
to crown you with success. Persevere, and you insure 
peace, freedom, safety, glory, sovereignty, and felicity to 
yourselves, your children, and your children's children. 

^' Encouraged by favours already received from Infinite 
Goodness, gratefully acknowledging them, earnestly im- 
ploring their continuance, constantly endeavouring to 
draw them down on your heads by an amendment of 
your lives, and a conformity to the Divine will, humbly 
confiding in the protection so often and wonderfully ex- 
perienced, vigorously employ the means placed by Pro- 
vidence in your hands, for completing your labours, 

''Fill up your battalions; be prepared in every part to 
repel the incursions of your enemies; place your several 
quotas in the continental treasury; lend money for pub- 
lic uses ; sink the emissions of your respective states ; 
provide effectually for expediting the conveyance of sup- 
plies for your armies and fleets, and for your allies; 
prevent the produce of the country from being monopo- 
lized; effectually superintend the behaviour of public 
officers ; diligently promote piely, virtue, brotherly love, 
learning, frugality, and moderation; and may you be ap- 
proved before Almighty God, worthy of those blessings 
w^e devoutly wish you to enjoy." 

He was distinguished by his strength of mind, mis- 
cellaneous knowledge, and cultivated taste, which were 
united with an habitual eloquence, with an elegance of 
manners, and a benignity which made him the delight, 
as well as the ornament, of society. The infirmities of 
declining years had detached him, long before his death, 
from the busy scenes of life, but in retirement his pa- 
.r/otism felt no abatement. The welfare of his country 
via>i ever dear to him, and he was ready to make any 



DICKINSON. 123 

sacrifices for its promotion. Unequivocal in his attach- 
ment to a republican government, he invariably sup- 
ported, as far as his voice could have influence, those 
men, and those measures, v/hich he believed most friend- 
ly to republican principles. He was esteemed for his 
uprightness, and the purity of his morals. From a letter 
which he wrote to James Warren, esquire, dated the 
25th of the first month, 1805, it would seem that he was 
a member of the society of friends. 

He died at Wilmington, in the state of Delaware, 
February 15, 1808. at an advanced age. 






DICKINSON, Philemon, was born at the seat of his 
father, near Dover, in the state of Delaware, on the 5th 
day of April, 1739, and received his education in Phila- 
delphia, under the celebrated teacher of that day. Dr. 
Allison. His father died in the year 1760, and for seve- 
ral years after that event, he continued to reside with his 
widowed mother, at the place of his birth. Having at 
length purchased a small farm in the neighbourhood 
of Trenton, in New Jersey, he was there found at the 
commencement of the revolutionary war, and was intro- 
duced into public life, as a member of the convention 
which formed the constitution of that state. This was 
soon after followed by his appointment to the command 
of the militia of New Jersey. His zeal and devotion to 
the public cause, became immediately conspicuous, and 
engaged him in an enterprise, which secured to the army 
a collection of flour, at that time very essential to its 
comfort. 

When general Washington's army was hutted near 
Morristown, and labouring under that fatal malady, the 
small-pox, a line of posts was formed along the Millstone 
river, in the direction of Princeton; one of these, esta- 
blished at Somerset court-house, was occupied by gene- 
ral Dickinson, with a few hundred men. Not very distant, 
and on the opposite bank of the stream, stood a mill, in 
which a considerable quantity of flour had been collectd 



124 DICKINSON. 

for the use of the troops. At this time lord Comwallis 
lay at New Brunswick, and having received information 
of this depot, immediately despatched a large foraging 
party, amounting to about four hundred men, and up- 
wards of forty wagons, drawn by imported horses, of the 
English draft breed, for the purpose of taking possession 
of it. The British troops arrived at the mill early in the 
morning, and having loaded the wagons with the flour, 
were about to march on their return, when general Dick- 
inson, at the head of an inferior force, which he led 
through the river, middle deep, attacked them with so 
much spirit and effect, that they instantly fled, abandon- 
ing the whole of their plunder. The light in which this 
affair was viewed by the commander in chief, will ap- 
pear by the following extract of a letter to the president 
of congress, dated Morristown, January 22nd, 1777: 

"My last to you was on the 20th instant. Since that, 
I have the pleasure to inform you, that general Dickin- 
son, with about four hundred militia, has defeated a 
foraging party of the enemy of an equal number, and has 
taken forty wagons and upwards of a hundred horses, 
most of them of the English draft breed, and a number 
of sheep and cattle, which they had collected. The 
enemy retreated with so much precipitation, that general 
Dickinson had only an opportunity of making nine pri- 
soners. They were observed to carry off a great niany 
dead and wounded in light wagons. This action hap- 
pened near Somerset court-house, on Millstone river. 
General Dickinson's behaviour reflects the highest ho- 
nour on him, for though his troops were all raw, he led 
them through the river, middle deep, and gave the ene- 
my so severe a charge, that although supported by three 
field-pieces, they gave way, and left their convoy." 

Immediately after general Dickinson had resumed his 
position on the Millstone, he waited on the commander 
in chief, for the purpose of receiving his orders. He 
found him exceedingly indisposed, and his spirits much 
depressed, in consequence of the gloomy aspect of affairs. 
In the course of a long and confidential conversation be- 
tween them, general Washington observed, that the con- 
tinental troops with him were scarcely sufficient in 
number to perform the ordinary guard duties, and tha^ 



DICKINSON. 125 

out of eleven hundred men, eight hundred were under 
inoculation for the small-pox. He expressed great soli- 
citude, lest the enemy should become acquainted with 
his actual situation: the consequence of which might 
prove fatal to the cause of America. He particularly im- 
pressed upon general Dickinson, the necessity of obtain- 
ing accurate information of the views and movements 
of the enemy, and requested his utmost vigilance, and 
most active exertions, to attain this object. 

At the close of this interview, general Dickinson re- 
turned to his station, where he heard with equal surprise 
and regret, that an officer of the militia had deserted to 
the enemy, and had previously obtained from the office 
of the adjutant-general, an actual and correct return of 
the American army, which he delivered to lord Corn- 
wallis, then in command at New Brunswick, through the 
medium of colonel Skinner, a loyalist in the service of 
Great Britain. In consequence of this information, 
his lordship formed the plan of an attack on the Ameri- 
can army. 

General Dickinson at once saw the necessity of en- 
deavouring to remove the impression, made by this act 
of treachery. Having in his employment a spy, whose 
want of fidelity he had recently discovered, he resolved 
to make use of him on this occasion. Fortunately, the 
man applied a day or two afterwards, for permission to 
visit New Brunswick. This was at first positively refus- 
ed, and at the same time it was intimated to him, as the 
reason of this refusal, that an important movement was 
in agitation, in the execution of v/hich the utmost secrecy 
was necessary. He was farther informed that the indul- 
gence of his request at that moment, would incur the' 
displeasure of the commander in chief. The curiosity 
of the man being much excited by these hints, general 
Dickinson at length took him into a private room, and 
observed, that an opportunity was now afforded him of 
rendering his country a very important service, for which 
he should be liberally rewarded. He then stated that the 
return, which the officer who had deserted had in his 
possession, was a forgery, intended to secure to himself 
a favourable reception from the enemy: also, that large 
bodies of troops, both from the east and the south, had 

L 2 



126 DICKINSON. 

recently arrived in the vicinity of Morristown ; that from 
the last returns, the American army, at its several posi- 
tions, which might be readily concentrated, amounted to 
nearly twenty thousand men; and that an attack on the 
enemy was only delayed, for the purpose of making the 
necessary arrangements, already in great forwardness; 
adding, that as the capture of the commanding officer at 
Brunswick was an object of the first importance, it was 
material to ascertain particularly the situation of his 
quarters in the town, and also the force and position of 
the guards, out-posts. Sec. &c. 

The spy, giving general Dickinson every assurance 
that he would faithfully execute his commission, was 
permitted to proceed on his visit. On reaching New 
Brunswick, he communicated, without delay, to lord 
Cornwallis, all that passed in the conversation between 
the general and himself, which induced his lordship to 
i-elinquish his meditated attack. 

"During the fall of 1777, general Dickinson, after in- 
forming himself precisely of the force and situation of 
the enemy on Staten Island, projected another expedition 
against that post, in the hope of being able entirely to 
cut off Skinner's brigade of loyal Americans, which was 
stationed there. His perfect knowledge of the country 
enabled him to make such a disposition, as promised 
success, and authorized a hope that his plan would be 
executed as formed. He collected about two thousand 
men, and requested from general Putnam, a diversion 
on the side of King's bridge, in order to prevent a sud- 
den reinforcement from New York. 

"Knowing well that success depended on secrecy, he 
had concealed his object, even from his officers, until 
8 o'clock of the night on which it was to be executed ; 
yet by three in the morning, information of the design 
was given to general Skinner, who was thereby put on 
his guard: and on the first alarm, he saved himself and 
his brigade by taking refuge in some works too strong 
to be carried by assault. In the flight, a few prisoners 
were made, and a few men killed ; after which, general 
Dickinson brought off his party with a loss of only three 
killed, and ten slightly wounded. Soon after the British 
army reached Philadelphia, in the autumn of 1777, count 



DICKINSON. 127 

Donop crossed the Delaware, with the intention, as it 
was believed, of investing Red Bank, a post on the Jer- 
sey side of the river. Immediate measures were taken 
to raise the militia of that state: this was rendered par- 
ticularly difficult at this moment, by an event by no 
means common. The time for which the governor was 
elected had expired, and no new election had been made. 
The late executive, therefore, did not think itself au- 
thorized to take any measures, as an executive ; and had 
not general Dickinson ventured to order out the militia, 
by his own authority, they could not have been put in 
motion." Marshall's Life of Washington. 

General Dickinson was present at the battle of Mon- 
mouth, with all the militia he could assemble. He was 
also a member of the council of war, held on the night 
before the action. He there took an opportunity of re- 
presenting to general Washington, that though the mi- 
litia might be less efficient in the field than regular 
troops, yet they were capable of performing a very im- 
portant part in guarding the army against an attack that 
night; by which the whole of the continental troops 
would have an opportunity of obtaining that repose they 
so much needed ; and if the commander in chief would 
confide to them that honour, he would pledge himself 
that the camp should not be surprised. General Dick- 
inson's offer was accepted, and on the following morn- 
ing, before day-light, information was conveyed to the 
commander in chief, that the enemy had resumed his 
line of march. 

At the close of the war, general Dickinson retired to 
his seat on the banks of the Delaware. 

In December, 1784, congress appointed three commis- 
sioners to select a spot for a federal city, on either side 
of the river Delaware, not more than eight miles above, 
nor eight miles below its lower falls. The persons chosen 
were Robert Morris, Esq. general Schuyler, and gene- 
ral Dickinson. 

General Dickinson was a member of the senate of the 
United States for several years, previously to the re- 
moval of congress to Washington. He died in Februa- 
ry, 1809, 



128 DRAYTON. 

DRAYTON, Henry William, an ardent patriot, and 
a political writer of considerable eminence, was born in 
South Carolina, in the year 1742. He spent his youth, 
and acquired his education, in England. Soon after he 
came to manhood, he returned to Carolina, and there, 
with inferior opportunities, but superior industry, pro- 
secuted his studies. In it he acquired the greater part 
of that knowledge for which he was afterwards distin- 
guished. He first began to write for the public about 
the year 1769. Under the signature of "Freeman" he 
stated several legal and constitutional objections to an 
association, or rather the mode of enforcing an associa- 
tion, for suspending the importation of British manu- 
factures, which was then generally signed by the inha- 
bitants. This involved him in a political controversy, 
in which he was opposed by Christopher Gadsden, and 
John Mackenzie. In the year 1774, he wrote a pamphlet 
under the signature of "Freeman," which was address- 
ed to the American congress. In this he stated the 
grievances of America, and drew up a bill of American 
rights. This was well received. It substantially chalked 
out the line of conduct adopted by congress, then in ses- 
sion. He was elected a member of the provincial con- 
gress, which sat in January, 1775; and in the course of 
that year was advanced to the presidency thereof. In 
the latter character, he issued, on the 9th of November, 
1775, the first order that was given in South Carolina, 
for firing on the British. The order was addressed to 
colonel XVilliam Moultrie, and directed him " by every 
military operation to endeavour to oppose the passage 
of any British naval armament that may attempt to pass 
fort Johnson." This was before congress had decided on 
independence, and in the then situation of Carolina, was 
a bold, decisive measure. 

Before the revolution, Mr. Drayton was one of the 
king's counsellors, and one of his assistant judges for 
the province. The first of these offices he resigned, and 
from the last tie was dismissed by the officers of his Bri- 
tannic majesty. On the formation of a popular consti- 
tution, he was reinstated in the corresponding offices of 
the state, and in the last, advanced to the rank of chief 
justice. He published his charge to the grand jury, in 



DRAYTON. 129 

April, 1776, which breathes all the spirit and energy of 
the mind which knows, the value of freedom, and is de- 
termined to support it. 

The following is an extract from the charge: 
" In short, I think it my duty to declare in the awful 
seat of justice, and before Almighty God, that, in my 
opinion, the Americans can have no safety but by the 
Divine favour, their own virtue, and their being so pru- 
dent as not to leave it in tJie power of the British rulers to 
injure them. Indeed, the ruinous and deadly injuries re- 
ceived on our side, and the jealousies entertained, and 
which, in the nature of things, must daily increase against 
us, on the other, demonstrate to a mind in the least given 
to reflection upon the rise and fall of empires, that true 
reconcilement never can exist between Great Britian and 
America, the latter being in subjection to the former. 
The Almighty created America to be independent of 
Britain : Let us beware of the impiety of being backward 
to act as instruments in the Almighty hand, now extend- 
ed to accomplish his purpose ; and by the completion of 
which alone, America, in the nature of human affairs, 
can be secure against the craft and insidious designs of 
her enemies^ who think her prosperity and potver already by 
FAR TOO GREAT. In a word, our piety and political safety 
are so blended, that to refuse our labours in this Divine 
work, is to refuse to be a great, a free, a pious, and a 
happy people ! 

"And now having left the important alternative, po- 
litical happiness or wretchedness, under God, in a great 
degree in your own hands, I pray the Supreme Arbiter 
of the affairs of men, so to direct your judgment, as that 
you may act agreeably to what seems to be his will, re- 
vealed in his miraculous works in behalf of America, 
bleeding at the altar of liberty." This being anterior to 
the declaration of independence, was bold language. 
Several publications appeared from his pen, explaining 
the injured rights of his country, and encouraging his 
fellow-citizens to vindicate them. He has also left a 
manuscript history of the American revolution, in three 
folio volumes, brought down to the end of the year 1778, 
which he intended to continue, and publish. His coun- 
try, pleased with his zeal and talents, heaped offices upon 



130 •franklix. 

him. He was appointed a member of congress in 1778 
and 1779. Soon after he had taken his seat, British com- 
missioners came to America, with the hope of detaching 
the states from their alliance with France. Drayton took 
an active and decided part in favour of the measures 
adopted by his countrymen. His letters, published ex- 
pressly to controvert the machinations of the British 
commissioners, were considered as replete with irre- 
sistible arguments, and written in the best style of com- 
position. 

He died in Philadelphia, in 1779, while attending his 
duty in congress, in the thirty-seventh year of his age. 
He was a statesman of great decision and energy, and 
one of the ablest political writers South Carolina has 
produced. 






FRANKLIN, Benjamin, a philosopher and statesman, 
was born in Boston, Massachusetts, January 17, 1706. 
His father, who was a native of England, was a soctp- 
boiler and tallow-chandler in that town. At the age o> 
eight years, he was sent to a grammar school, but at 
the age of ten, his father required his services to assist 
him in his business. Two years afterwards, he was 
bound an apprentice to his brother, who was a printer. 
In this employment he made great proficiency, and hav- 
ing a taste for books, he devoted much of his leisure 
time to reading. So eager was he in the pursuit of know- 
ledge, that he frequently passed the greater part of the 
night in his studies. He became expert in the Socratic 
mode of reasoning by asking questions, and thus he 
sometimes embarrassed persons of understanding supe- 
rior to his own. In 1721, his brother began to print the 
New England Courant, which was the third newspaper 
published in America. The two preceding papers were 
the Boston News Letter, and Boston Gazette. Young 
Franklin wrote a number of essays for the Courant, 
which were so well received, as to encourage him to 
continue his literary labours. To improve his style, he 



FRANKLIN. 131 

resolved to imitate Addison's Spectator. The method 
which he took, was to make a summary of a paper, after 
he had read it, and in a few days, when he had forgotten 
the expressions of the author, to endeavour to restore it 
to its original form. By this means he was taught his 
errors, and perceived the necessity of being more fully 
acquainted with the synonymous words of the language. 
He was much assisted also in acquiring a facility and 
variety of expression by writing poetry. 

At this early period the perusal of Shaftsbury and 
Collins made him completely a sceptic, and he was fond 
of disputing upon the subject of religion. This circum- 
stance caused him to be regarded by pious men with 
abhorrence, and on this account, as well as on account 
of the ill treatment which he received from his brother, 
he determined to leave Boston. His departure was fa- 
cilitated by the possession of his indenture, which his 
brother had given him about the year 1723, not from 
friendship, but because the general court had prohibited 
him from publishing the New England Courant, and in 
order that it might be conducted under the name of 
Benjamin Franklin. He privately went on board a sloop, 
and soon arrived at New York. Finding no employment 
here, he pursued his way to Philadelphia, and entered 
the city without a friend, and with only a dollar in his 
pocket. Purchasing some rolls at a baker's shop, he put 
one under each arm, and eating a third, walked through 
several streets in search of a lodging. There were at 
this time two printers in Philadelphia, Mr. Andrew Brad- 
ford, and Mr. Keimer, by the latter of whom he was em- 
ployed. Sir William Keith, the governor, having been 
informed that Franklin was a young man of promising 
talents, invited him to his house, and treated him in the 
most friendly manner. He advised him to enter into 
business for himself, and, to accomplish this object, to 
make a visit to London, in order that he might purchase 
the necessary articles for a printing office. Receiving 
the promise of assistance, Franklin prepared himself for 
the voyage, and on applying for letters of recommenda- 
tion, previously to sailing, he was told, that they would 
be sent on board. When the letter bag was opened, 
there was no packet for Franklin ; and he now discovered, 



132 fRANK^IN. 

that the governor was one of those men, who love to 
oblige every body, and who substitute the most liberal 
professions and offers in the place of active, substantial 
kindness. Arriving in London in 1724, he was obliged 
to seek employment as a journeyman printer. He lived 
so economically, that he saved a great part of his wages. 
Instead of drinking six pints of beer in a day, like some 
of his fellow labourers, he drank only water, and he per- 
suaded some of them to renounce the extravagance of 
eating bread and cheese for breakfast, and to procure a 
cheap soup. As his principles at this time were very 
loose, his zeal to enlighten the world induced him to 
publish his dissertation on liberty and necessity, in which 
he contended that virtue and vice were nothing more 
than vain distinctions. This work procured him the 
acquaintance of Mandeville, and others of the licentious 
class. 

He returned to Philadelphia in October, 1726, as a 
clerk to Mr. Denham, a merchant, but the death of that 
gentleman in the following year, induced him to return 
to Mr. Keimer, in the capacity of foreman in his office. 
He was very useful to his employer, for he gave him as- 
sistance as a letter founder. He engraved various orna- 
ments, and made printer's ink. He soon began business 
in partnership with Mr. Meredith, but in 1729, he dis- 
solved the connexion with him. Having purchased of 
Keimer a paper, which had been conducted in a wretch- 
ed manner, he now conducted it in a style which attract- 
ed much attention. At this time, though destitute of 
those religious principles, which give stability and ele- 
vation to virtue, he yet had discernment enough to be 
convinced, that truth, probity, and sincerity, would pro- 
mote his interest, and be useful to him in the world, and 
he resolved to respect them in his conduct. The ex- 
penses of his establishment in business, notwithstanding 
his industry and economy, brought him into embarrass- 
ments, from which he was relieved by the generous as- 
sistance of William Coleman and Robert Grace. In 
addition to his other employments, he now opened a 
small stationer's shop. But the claims of business did 
not extinguish his taste for literature and science. He 
formed a club, which he called " The Junto," composed 



FRANKLIN. 133 

of the most intelligent of his acquaintance. Questions 
of morality, politics, or philosophy, were discussed every 
Friday evening, and the institution was continued almost 
forty years. As books were frequently quoted in the 
club, and aS the members had brought their books to- 
gether for mutual advantage, he was led to form the plan 
of a public library, which was carried into effect in 1731, 
and became the foundation of that noble institution, the 
present library company of Philadelphia. In 1732, he 
began to publish Poor Richard's Almanac, which was 
enriched with maxims of frugality, temperance, indus- 
try, and integrity. So great was its reputation, that he 
sold ten thousand annually, and it was continued by him 
about twenty-five years. The maxims were collected in 
the last almanac in the form of an address, called the 
way to wealth, which has appeared in various publica- 
tions. In 1736, he was appointed clerk of the general 
assembly of Pennsylvania, and in 1737, postmaster of 
Philadelphia. The first fire company was formed by him 
in 1738. When the frontiers of Pennsylvania were en- 
dangered in 1744, and an ineffectual attempt was made 
to procure a militia law, he proposed a voluntary asso- 
ciation for the defence of the province, and in a short 
time obtained ten thousand names. In 1747, he was 
chosen a member of the assembly, and continued in this 
station ten years. In all important discussions, his pre- 
sence was considered as indispensable. He seldom spoke, 
and never exhibited any oratory; but by a single obser- 
vation he sometimes determined the fate of a question. 
In the long controversies with the proprietaries or their 
governors, he took the most active part, and displayed 
a firm spirit of liberty. 

He was now engaged for a number of years in a course 
of electrical experiments, of which he published an ac- 
count. His great discovery was the identity of the elec- 
tric fluid and lightning. This discovery he made in the 
summer of 1752. To the upright stick of a kite, he at- 
tached an iron point; the string was of hemp, excepting 
ithe part which he held in his hand, which was of silk; 
jand a key was fastened where the hempen string termi- 
nated. With this apparatus, on the approach of a thunr 
,der storm, he raised his kite. A cloud passed aver it, 

M 



134 FRANKLIN. 

and no signs of electricity 'appearing, he began to de- 
spair; but observing the loose fibres of his string to move 
suddenly toward an erect position, he presented his 
knuckle to the key, and received a strong spark. The 
success of this experiment completely established his 
theory. The practical use of this discovery in securing 
houses from lightning by pointed conductors, is well 
known in America and Europe. In 1753, he was ap- 
pointed deputy postmaster general of the British colo- 
nies, and in the same year, the academy of Philadelphia, 
projected by him, was established. In 1754, he was one 
of the commissioners, who attended the congress at 
Albany, to devise the best means of defending the coun- 
try against the French. He drew up a plan of union for 
defence and general government, which was adopted by 
the congress. It was however rejected by the board of 
trade in England, because it gave too much power to 
the representatives of the people; and it was rejected by 
the assemblies of the colonies, because it gave too much 
power to the president general. After the defeat of 
Braddock, he was appointed colonel of a regiment, and 
he repaired to the frontiers, and built a fort. 

Higher employments, however, at length called him 
from his country, which he was destined to serve more 
effectually as its agent in England, whither he was sent 
in 1757. The stamp act, by which the British ministry 
wished to familiarize the Americans to pay taxes to the 
mother country, revived that love of liberty which had 
led their forefathers to a country at that time a desert; 
and the colonies formed a congress, the first idea of 
w^hich had been communicated to them by Dr. Franklin, 
at the conferences at Albany, in 1754. The war that was 
just terminated, and the exertions made by them to sup- 
port it, had given them a conviction of their strength; 
they opposed this measure, and the minister gave way, 
but he reserved the means of renewing the attempt. Once 
cautioned, however, they remained on their guard; liber- 
ty, cherished by their alarms, took deeper root; and the 
rapid circulation of ideas by means of newspapers, for 
the introduction of which, they were indebted to the 
printer of Philadelphia, united them together to resist 
every fresh enterprise. In the year 1766, this printer. 



yRANKLlN. 135 

called to the bar of the house of commons, underwent 
that famous interrogatory, which placed the name of 
Franklin as high in politics, as in natural philosophy. 
From that time he defended the cause of America, with 
a firmness and moderation becoming a great man, point- 
ing out to the ministry all the errors they committed, 
and the consequences they would produce, till the period 
w^hen, the tax on tea meeting the same opposition as the 
stamp act had done, England blindly fancied herself ca- 
pable of subjecting, by force, three million of men de- 
termined to be free, at a distance of one thousand leagues. 

In 1766, he visited Holland and Germany, and receiv- 
ed the greatest marks of attention from men of science. 
In his passage through Holland, he learned from the 
watermen, the effect which the diminution of the quan- 
tity of water in canals has in impeding the progress of 
boats. Upon his return to England, he was led to make 
a number of experiments, all of which tended to confirm 
the observation. 

In the following year, he travelled into France, where 
he met with no less favourable reception than he had 
experienced in Germany. He was introduced to a num- 
ber of literary characters, and to the king, Louis XV. 

He returned to America, and arrived in Philadelphia 
in the beginning of May, 1775, and was received with 
all those marks of esteem and affection, which his emi- 
nent services merited. The day after his arrival he was 
elected by the legislature of Pennsylvania, a member of 
congress. 

Almost immediately on his arrival from England, he 
wrote letters to some of his friends in that country, in a 
strain fitted to inspire lofty ideas of the virtue, resolu- 
tion, and resources of the colonies. "All America," said 
he to Dr. Priestley, " is exasperated, and more firmly 
united than ever. Great frugality and great industry are 
become fashionable here. Britain, I conclude, has lost 
her colonies for ever. She is now giving us such mise- 
rable specimens of her government, that we shall even 
detest and avoid it, as a complication of robbery, mur- 
der, famine, fire, and pestilence. If you flatter yourselves 
with beating us into submission, you know neither the 
people nor the country. You will have heard, before this 



^ 36 FJlANKLIN. 

reaches you, of the defeat of a great body of your troops 
by the country people at Lexington, of the action at 
Bunker's hill, &c. Enough has happened, one would 
think, to convince your ministers, that the Americans 
will fight, and that this is a harder nut to crack than they 
imagined. Britain, at the expense of three millions, has 
killed one hundred and fifty Yankees this campaign. 
During the same time, sixty thousand children have been 
born in America. From these data, the mathematical 
head of our dear good friend, Dr. Price, will easily cal- 
culate the time and expense necessary to kill us all, and 
conquer our whole territory. Tell him, as he sometimes 
has his doubts and despondencies about our firmness, 
that America is determined and unanimous." 

It was in this varied tone of exultation, resentment, 
and defiance, that he privately communicated with Eu- 
rope. The strain of the papers respecting the British 
government and nation, which he prepared for congress, 
was deemed by his colleagues too indignant and vitu- 
perative; to such a pitch were his feelings excited by 
the injuries and sufferings of his country, and so anxious 
was he that the strongest impetus should be given to 
the national spirit. His anger and his abhorrence were 
real ; they endured without abatement during the whole 
continuance of the system which provoked them ; they 
wore a complexion which rendered it impossible to mis- 
take them for the offspring of personal pique or consti- 
tutional irritability; they had a vindictive power, a 
corrosive energy, proportioned to the weight of his 
character, and the dignity of the sentiments from which 
they sprung. 

It was in this year that Dr. Franklin addressed that 
memorable and laconic epistle to his old friend and com- 
panion, Mr. Strahan, then king's printer, and member of 
the British parliament, of which the following is a cor- 
rect copy, and of which a fac-simile is given in the last 
and most correct edition of his works : 

Philada. July 5, 1775. 
Mr. Strahan, 

You are a member of parliament, and one of that ma- 
jority which has doomed my country to destruction.— 



FRANKLIN. 137 

You have begun to burn our towns, and murder our 
people. — Look upon your hands! — They are stained 
with the blood of your relations ! — You and I were long 
friends: — You are now my enemy, — and I am 

Yours, 

B. FRANKLIN. 

In October, 1775, Dr. Franklin was appointed by con- 
gress, jointly with Mr. Harrison and Mr. Lynch, a com- 
mittee to visit the American camp at Cambridge, and, 
in conjunction with the commander in chief, (general 
Washington,) to endeavour to convince the troops, whose 
term of enlistment was about to expire, of the necessity 
of their continuing in the field, and persevering in the 
cause of their country. 

He was afterwards sent on a mission to Canada, to 
endeavour to unite that country to the common cause 
of liberty. But the Canadians could not be prevailed 
upon to oppose the measures of the British government. 

It was directed that a printing apparatus, and hands, 
competent to print in French and English, should ac- 
company this mission. Two papers were written and 
circulated very extensively through Canada; hut it was 
not until after the experiment had been tried, that it was 
found not more than one person in five hundred could 
read. Dr. Franklin was accustomed to make the best 
of every occurrence, and suggested, that if it were in- 
tended to send another mission, it should be a mission 
composed of schoolmasters. 

He was, in 1776, appointed a committee, with John 
Adams and Edward Rutledge, to inquire into the pow- 
ers with which lord Howe was invested in regard to the 
adjustment of our difi*erences with Great Britain. When 
his lordship expressed his concern at being obliged to 
distress those whom he so much regarded, Dr. Franklin 
assured him, that the Americans, out of reciprocal re- 
gard, would endeavour to lessen, as much as possible, 
the pain which he might feel on their account, by taking 
the utmost care of themselves. In the discussion of the 
great question of independence, he was decidedly in fa- 
vour of the measure. 

In July, 1776, he was called to add to his federal 
M 2 



138 FEANKLIN. 

duties, those of president of a convention held at Philadel- 
phia, for the purpose of giving a new constitution to the 
state of Pennsylvania. The unbounded confidence re- 
posed in his sagacity and wisdom, induced the conven- 
tion to adopt his favourite theory of a plural executive 
and single legislature, which the experience of modern 
times has justly brought into disrepute. It may be said 
to be the only instance in which he cherished a specu- 
lation that experiment would not confirm. 

Franklin early conjectured that it would become ne- 
cessary for America to apply to some foreign power for 
assistance. To prepare the way for this step, and ascer- 
tain the probability of its success, he had, towards the 
close of 1775, opened, under the sanction of congress, 
a correspondence with Holland, which he managed with 
admirable judgment, as may be perceived by his letter 
to Mr. Dumas, of Amsterdam, of December, 1775, con- 
tained in the fifth volume of the American edition of his 
works. When, at the end of 1776, our affairs had as- 
sumed so threatening an aspect, the hopes of congress 
were naturally turned to Europe, and to France particu- 
larly, the inveterate and most powerful rival of England. 
Every eye rested on Franklin as a providential instru- 
ment for sustaining the American cause abroad; and 
though he had repeatedly signified from London, his 
determination to revisit Europe no more, yet, having 
consecrated himself anew to the pursuit of national inde- 
pendence, he accepted, without hesitation, in his seventy- 
first year, the appointment of commissioner plenipoten- 
tiary to the court of France. 

He wished, partly with a view to protect his person, 
in case of capture on the voyage across the Atlantic, to 
carry with him propositions for peace with England, and 
submitted to the secret committee of congress, a series 
of articles, which his grandson has published. We are 
especially struck with that one of them which asks the 
cession to the United States, of Canada, Nova Scotia, 
the Floridas, &c.; and the explanation annexed to the ar- 
ticle by this long-sighted statesman, is not a little re- 
markable. " It is worth our while to offer such a sum 

for the countries to be ceded, since the vacant 

lands will in time sell for a great part of what we shall 



FRANKLIN. 139 

give, if not more; and if we are to obtain them by con- 
quest, after perhaps a long war, they will probably cost 
us more than that sum. It is absolutely necessary for us 
to have them for our own security; and though the sum 
may seem large to the present generation, in less than 
half the term of years allowed for their payment, it will 
be to the whole United States a mere trifle." Who does 
not, on reading this passage, recollect with gratitude, 
and feel disposed to honour as a master-stroke, the pur- 
chase of Louisiana, accomplished by Franklin's successor 
in the mission to France? 

In the month of October, 1776, our philosopher set 
sail on his eventful mission, having first deposited in the 
hands of congress, all the money he could raise, between 
three and four thousand pounds, as a demonstration of 
his confidence in their cause, and an incentive for those 
who might be able to assist it in the same way. His 
passage to France was short, but extremely boisterous. 
During some part of the month of December, he remain- 
ed at the country-seat of an opulent friend of America, 
in the neighbourhood of Nantz, in order to recover from 
the fatigues of the voyage, and to ascertain the posture 
of American affairs at Paris, before he approached that 
capital. With his usual sound discretion he forebore 
to assume, at the moment, any public character, that he 
might not embarrass the court which it was his province 
to conciliate, nor subject the mission to the hazard of a 
disgraceful repulse. 

From the civilities with which he was loaded by the 
gentry of Nantz, and the surrounding country, and the 
lively satisfaction with which they appeared to view his 
supposed errand, he drew auguries that animated him in 
the discharge of his first duties at Paris. The reception 
given to him and his colleagues, by M. de Vergennes, 
the miinister for foreign affairs, at the private audience 
to which they were admitted, towards the end of De- 
cember, was of a nature to strengthen his patriotic 
hopes, and eminently to gratify his personal feelings. 
The particular policy of the French cabinet did not ad- 
mit, at this period, of a formal recognition of the Ame- 
rican commissioners. Franklin abstained from pressing 
a measure for which circumstances were not ripe, but 



140 yUANKLIN* 

urged, without delay, in an argumentative memorial, the 
prayer of congress for substantial succours. 

History presents no other case in which the interests 
of a people abroad derived so much essential, direct aid 
from the auspices of an individual; there is no other in- 
stance of a concurrence of qualities in a national mis- 
sionary, so full and opportune. Foreign assistance had 
become, as it was thought, indispensable for the rescue : 
of the colonies : France was the only sufficient auxiliary ; 
and by her intervention, and the influences of her capital, 
alone, could any countenance or supplies be expected I 
from any other European power. Her court, though ff 
naturally anxious for the dismemberment of the British ^ 
empire, shrunk from the risks of a war; and could be i 
prevented from stagnating in irresolution only by a strong i 
current of public opinion: Her people, already touched I 
by the causes and motives of the colonial struggle, re- ' 
quired, however, some striking, immediate circumstance, 
to be excited to a clamorous sympathy. It was from 
Paris, that the impulse necessary to foster and fructify 
this useful enthusiasm was to be received, as well by the 
whole European continent, as by the mass of the French 
nation. At the time when Franklin appeared in Paris, 
the men of letters and of science possessed a remarkable 
ascendency over all movement and judgment; they gave 
the tone to general opinion, and contributed to decide 
ministerial policy. Fashion, too, had no inconsiderable 
share in moulding public sentiment, and regulating 
events; and at this epoch, beyond any other, it was de- 
termined, and liable to be kindled into passion, by ano- 
malous, or fanciful external appearances, however trivial 
in themselves, and moral associations of an elevated or 
romantic cast. 

Observing the predilection of the people of France for 
the American cause, the rapid diffusion of a lively sym- 
pathy over the whole continent, the devotion of the lite- 
rary and fashionable circles of Paris to his objects, the 
diligent preparations for war made daily in France, and 
the frozen mien of all the continental powers towards 
Great Britain, Franklin did not allow himself to be dis- 
couraged by the reserve of the court of Versailles: and, 
in order to counteract its natural effect, and that of other 



FRANKLXK. 141 

adverse appearances upon the resolution of his country- 
men, he emphatically detailed those circumstances, in 
his correspondence with America; adding, at the same 
time, accounts of the domestic embarrassments, and 
growing despair of the enemy. 

When the news of the surrender of Burgoyne reached 
France in October, 1777, and produced there an explo- 
sion of public opinion, he seized upon the auspicious 
crisis, to make his decisive effort, by urging the most 
persuasive motives for a formal recognition and alliance. 
The epoch of the treaty concluded with the court of Ver- 
sailles, on the 6th of February, 1778, is one of the most 
splendid in his dazzling career. 

In conjunction with Mr. John Adams, Mr. Jay, and 
Mr. Laurens, he signed the provisional articles of peace, 
November 30, 1782, and the definitive treaty, September 
30, 1783. While he was in France, he was appointed 
one of the commissioners to examine Mesmer's animal 
magnetism. In 1784, being desirous of returning to his 
native country, he requested that an ambassador might 
be appointed in his place, and on the arrival of his suc- 
<:essor, Mr. Jefferson, he immediately sailed for Phila- 
delphia, where he arrived in September, 1785. He was 
received with universal applause, and was soon appoint- 
ed president of the supreme executive council. In 1787, 
he was a delegate to the grand convention, which formed 
the constitution of the United States. In this convention 
he had differed in some points from the majority, but 
when the articles were ultimately decreed, he said to his 
colleagues, " We ought to have but one opinion ; the good of 
our country requires that the resolution should be unani- 
mous;*^ and he signed. 

On the 17th of April, 1790, in the eighty-fourth year 
of his age, he expired, in the city of Philadelphia; en- 
countering this last solemn conflict, with the same phi- 
losophical tranquillity and pious resignation to the will 
of heaven, which had distinguished him through all the 
various events of his life. 

He was interred on the 21st of April, and congress 
ordered a general mourning for him throughout Ame- 
rica, of one month. In France, the expression of public 
grief was scarcely less enthusiastic. There the event 



142 FRANKLlSf 

was solemnized, under the direction of the municipality 
of Paris, by funeral orations; and the national asseinbly, 
his death being announced in a very eloquent, and pa- 
thetic discourse, decreed, that each of the members 
should wear mourning for three days, " in commemora- 
tion of the event;" and that a letter of condolence, for 
the irreparable loss they had sustained, should be di- 
rected to the American congress. Honours extremely 
glorious to his memory, and such, it has been remarked, 
as were never before paid by any public body of one na- 
tion, to the citizen of another. 

He lies buried in the north-west corner of Christ 
church-yard; distinguished from the surrounding dead, 
by the humility of his sepulchre. He is covered by a 
small marble slab, on a level with the surface of the 
earth; and bearing the single inscription of his name, 
with that of his wife. A monument sufficiently corre- 
sponding to the plainness of his manners, little suitable 
to the splendour of his virtues. ' 

He had two children, a son and a daughter, and se- ! 
veral grand-children, who survived him. The son, who 
had been governor of New Jersey, under the British , 
government, adhered, during the revolutiun, to the royal j 
party, and spent the remainder of his life in England. ' 
The daughter married Mr. Bache, of Philadelphia, ' 
whose descendants yet reside in that city. 

Franklin enjoyed, during the greater part of his life, 
a healthy constitution, and excelled in exercises of 
strength and activity. In stature, he was above the 
middle size, manly, athletic, and well proportioned. His 
countenance, as it is represented in his portrait, is dis- 
tinguished by an air of serenity and satisfaction; the 
natural consequences of a vigorous temperament, of 
strength of mind, and conscious integrity : It is also 
marked, in visible characters, by deep thought and in- 
flexible resolution. 

The whole life of Franklin, his meditations and his 
labours, have all been directed to public utility ; but the 
grand object that he had always in view, did not shut 
his heart against private friendship ; he loved his family, 
and his friends, and was extremely beneficent. In so- 
ciety he was sententious, but not fluent ; a listener rather 



OADSDEK. 143 

than a talker ; an informing rather than a pleasing com- 
panion: impatient of interruption, he often mentioned 
the custom of the Indians, who always remain silent 
some time before they give an answer to a question, 
which they have heard attentively; unlike some of the 
politest societies in Europe, where a sentence can scarce- 
ly be finished without interruption. In the midst of his 
greatest occupations for the liberty of his country, he 
had some physical experiments always near him in his 
closet; and the sciences, which he rather discovered than 
studied, afforded him a continual source of pleasure. He 
made various bequests and donations to cities, public 
bodies, and individuals. 

The following epitaph was written by Dr. Franklin, 
for himself, when he was only twenty-three years of age, 
as appears by the original (with various corrections) 
found among his papers, and from which this is a faith- 
ful copy. 

"The body of 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 

PRINTER, 

(Like the cover of an old book. 

Its contents torn out, 

And stript of its lettering and gilding,) 

Lies here, food for worms : 

But the work shall not be lost, 

For it will (as he believed) appear once more. 

In a new, and more elegant edition. 

Revised and corrected 

bv 

THE AUTHOR." 



GADSDEN, Christopher, lieutenant-governor of 
South Carolina, and a distinguished friend of his coun- 
try, was born about the year 1724. So high was his 
reputation in the colony in which he lived, that he was 
appointed one of the delegates to the congress, which 



144 QADSD^IK^ 

met at New York in October, 1765, to petition against 
the stamp-act. 

Judge Johnson, in his life of general Greene, says, 
" There was at least one man in South Carolina, who, as 
early as 1766, foresaid and foretold the views of the 
British government, and explicitly urged his adherents 
to the resolution to resist even to death. General Gads- 
den, it is well known, and there are still living witnesses 
to prove it, always favoured the most decisive and ener- 
getic measures. He thought it a folly to temporize, and 
insisted that cordial reconciliation on honourable terms, 
was impossible. When the news of the repeal of the 
stamp-act arrived, and the whole community was in 
ecstasy at the event, he, on the contrary, received it with 
indignation, and privately convening a party of his 
friends beneath the celebrated Liberty-Tree, he there 
harangued them at considerable length on the folly of 
relaxing their opposition and vigilance, or indulging the 
fallacious hope that Great Britain would relinquish her 
designs or pretensions. He drew their attention to the 
preamble of the act, and forcibly pressed upon them the 
absurdity of rejoicing at an act that still asserted and 
maintained the absolute dominion over them. And then 
reviewing all the chances of succeeding in a struggle to 
break the fetters whenever again imposed on them, he 
pressed them to prepare their minds for the event. The 
address was received with silent, but profound devotion, 
and with linked hands, the whole party pledged them- 
selves to resist; a pledge that was faithfully redeemed 
when the hour of trial arrived. It was from this event 
that the Liberty-Tree took its name. The first conven- 
tion of South Carolina held their meeting under it.*' 

He was also chosen a member of the congress which 
met in 1774; and on his return early in 1776, received 
the thanks of the provincial assembly for his services. 
He was among the first who advocated republican prin- 
ciples, and wished to make his country independent of 
the monarchical government of Great Britain. 

During the siege of Charleston, in 1780, he remained 
within the lines with five of the council, while governor 
Rutledge, with the other three, left the city, at the earn- 
est request of general Lincoln. Several months after 



GADSDEN. 145 

the capitulation, he was taken out of his bed on the 27th 
of August, and, with most of the civil and military offi- 
cers, transported in a guard-ship to St. Augustine. This 
was done by the order of lord Cornwallis, and it was in 
violation of the rights of prisoners on parole. Guards 
were left at their houses, and the private papers of some 
of them were examined. A parole was offered at St. 
Augustine, but such was the indignation of lieutenant- 
governor Gadsden, at the ungenerous treatment which 
he had received, that he refused to accept it, and bore a 
close confinement in the castle for forty-two weeks, with 
the greatest fortitude. 

Garden, in his anecdotes of the revolutionary war, 
gives the following interesting particulars: "The con- 
duct of the British commanders towards this venerable 
patriot, in the strongest manner evinced their determi- 
nation rather to crush the spirit of opposition, than by 
conciliation to subdue it. The man did not exist to 
whose delicate sense of honour, even a shadow of dupli- 
city would have appeared more abhorrent, than general 
Gadsden. Transported by an arbitrary decree, with 
many of the most resolute and influential citizens of the 
republic, to St. Augustine, attendance on parade was 
peremptorily demanded ; when a British officer stepping 
forward, said, * Expediency, and a series of political 
occurrences, have rendered it necessary to remove you 
from Charleston to this place; but, gentlemen, we have 
no ^vish to increase your sufferings; to all, therefore, 
who are willing to give their paroles, not to go beyond 
the limits prescribed to them, the liberty of the town 
will be allowed; a dungeon will be the destiny of such 
as refuse to accept the indulgence.* The proposition 
was generally acceded to. But when general Gadsden 
was called to give this new pledge of faith, he indignant- 
ly exclaimed, * With men who have once deceived me, I 
can enter into no new contract. Had the British com- 
manders regarded the terms of the capitulation of 
Charleston, I might now, although a prisoner, under 
my own roof, have enjoyed the smiles and consolations 
of my surrounding family; but even without a shadow 
of accusation proffered against me, for any act incon 
sistent with my plighted faith, I am torn from them. 



146 GADSDEN. 

and here, in a distant land, invited to enter into new en 
gagements. I will give no parole.' 'Think better of it 
sir,* said the officer, 'a second refusal of it will fix you 
destiny: a dungeon will be your future habitation. 
* Prepare it then,' said the inflexible patriot, 'I will give 
no parole, so help me God. ' 

" When first shut up in the castle of St. Augustine, 
the comfort of a light was denied him by the command- 
ant of the fortress. A generous subaltern offered to sup 
ply him with a candle, but he declined it, lest the office 
should expose himself to the censure of his superior. 

"After Andre's arrest, colonel Glazier, the governor 
of the castle, sent to advise general Gadsden to prepare 
himself for the worst; intimating, that as general Wash- 
ington had been assured of retaliation, if Andre was 
executed, it was not unlikely that general Gadsden avouM 
be the person selected. To this message he replied. 
' That he was always prepared to die for his country 
and though he knew it was impossible for Washington tc 
yield the right of an independent state by the law of war, 
to fear or affection, yet he would not shrink from the 
sacrifice, and would rather ascend the scaffold than pur- 
chase with his life the dishonour of his country.' " 

In 1782, when it became necessary, by the rotation 
established, to choose a new governor, he was elected to 
this office : but he declined it, in a short speech, to the 
following effect. "I have served my country in a variety 
of stations for thirty years, and I would now cheerfully 
make one of a forlorn hope in an assault on the lines oV 
Charleston, if it was probable, that, with the loss of life 
you, my friends, would be reinstated in the possession ot 
your capital. What I can do for my country, I am will- 
ing to do. My sentiments in favour of the American 
cause, from the stamp-act, downwards, have never 
changed. I am still of opinion, that it is the cause of 
liberty and of human nature. The present times require 
the vigour and activity of the prime of life; but I feel the 
increasing infirmities of old age to such a degree, that T 
am conscious I cannot serve you to advantage. I there 
fore beg, for your sakes, and for the sake of the public, 
that you would indulge me with the liberty of declining 
the arduous trust," He continued, however, his exertion^ 



GATES. 147 



for the good of his country, both in the assembly and 
council; and notwithstanding the injuries he had suffered, 
and the immense loss of his property, he zealously op- 
posed the law for confiscating the estates of the adhe- 
rents to the British government, and contended that 
sound policy required to forgive and forget. 



GATES, Horatio, was a native of England, and was 
born in 1728. The condition of his family, the incident 
and prospects of his youth, and his education, we are 
not able to communicate any particulars. There is rea- 
son to believe that he entered the army very early, and 
began his career as an ensign or lieutenant; yet, we are 
told, that he obtained, by merit merely, the rank of ma- 
jor, and was aid-de-camp to the British officer who com- 
manded at the capture of Martinico. At the conclusion 
of the war in 1748, he was stationed some time at Hali- 
fax, in Nova Scotia. At that period, if the date of his 
birth be accurate, his age did not exceed twenty years. 

He continued in the army, and, probably, in some 
American garrison, during the ensuing seven years of 
peace. A new war then broke out in Germany, and 
North America, and Mr. Gates, in quality of captain of 
foot, attracts our notice in the earliest and most con- 
spicuous scene of that war. He was in the army which 
accompanied the unfortunate Braddock, in the expedi- 
tion against Fort Du Quesne, and, together with the 
illustrious Washington, was among the few officers, 
who, on that occasion, escaped with life. He did not 
escape, however, without a very dangerous wound, which, 
for a time, shut him out from the bloody and perilous 
scenes of that long and diversified contest. He remained 
in America until the peace of 1763, and then returned to 
his native country with a full earned reputation for acti- 
vity, enterprise, and courage. 

At the opening of the American war we find him set- 
tled on a farm in Virginia. At what time he laid down 
the military life, and returned to spend the rest of his 



148 GATES 

days in the new world, we are not informed ; but his con- 
duct evinced so perfect an attachment to his new coun- 
try, and his military reputation was so high, that he was 
immediately appointed by congress, adjutant-general, 
with the rank of brigadier-general, in the new army. 
General Washington was well acquainted with his merits 
in his military character, and warmly recommended him 
to congress on this occasion. They had been fellow- 
soldiers and sufferers under Braddock. 

From this period, he took a very active part in most 
of the transactions of the war, and his abilities and good 
fortune placed him in a rank inferior only to Washing- 
ton, and above any other general. He accompanied the 
commander in chief to Massachusetts, in July, 1775, and 
was employed for some time in a subordinate, but highly 
useful capacity. 

In 1776, general Gates was appointed to the chief 
command of the forces destined against Ticonderoga 
and Crown Point. 

In the spring of 1777, he was appointed, with Schuy- 
ler, from a subordinate, to the chief command on the 
northern frontier. In May, of the same year, he was 
superseded by Schuyler, nor was it until after Burgoyne, 
with his well appointed legions, had reached Ticondero- 
ga, that he resumed the command. This place, com- 
manded by Sinclair, was evacuated without a siege, on 
the 5th of July. The retreating army under Sinclair, 
was hotly pursued, overtaken, and defeated. Fort Ann 
and Skeensborough were occupied by the enemy, and all 
attempts to check his further progress appeared wholly 
desperate. 

At this crisis, a small delay in the advance of Bur- 
goyne, from Skeensborough, rendered necessary by the 
natural difficulties of the country, M^as diligently employ- 
ed by general Schuyler. That meritorious officer con- 
trived to raise the most formidable impediments to the 
further progress of Burgoyne, by breaking down the 
bridges, obstructing the navigation of Wood-creek, 
choking up the roads or pathways through the forest, 
by felled trees, and by driving off all the cattle of the 
neighbouring country. These obstructions were so formi- 
dable, that Burgoyne did not arrive at fort Edward, on 



GATES. 1 49 

'.he upper branches of the Hudson, till twenty-five days 
after his pause at Skeensborough. Here, a painful, un- 
seasonable, and dangerous pause, was again necessary, 
in order to procure provisions from the posts in the rear, 
and to collect the boats and other vessels necessary for 
the navigation of the Hudson. 

The progress of Burgoyne was arrested at the very 
point where, it should seem, all obstacles of any moment 
were fully surmounted. He had reached the Hudson, 
by a most painful and laborious march through the fo- 
rest, and a detachment of his army under St. Leger, who 
had been directed to approach the Hudson by another 
road, had nearly effected this purpose. St. Leger had 
gained a battle, and was now besieging fort Schuyler, 
the surrender of which was necessary to the further co- 
operation of the British generals, and was confidently 
anticipated. The tide of events, however, now suddenly 
took a new direction. 

Fort Schuyler refused to surrender, and the assault of 
the besiegers made very little impression on the works. 
The Indians, who composed a large party of St. Leger's 
army, began to display their usual fickleness and treache- 
ry, and after many efforts made by the British general 
to detain them, finally resolved to withdraw. This cre- 
ated an absolute necessity for raising the siege, which 
was done with great precipitation, and with the loss of 
all their camp equipage and stores. 

On the other side, the strenuous exertions of general 
Schuyler had deprived Burgoyne of all those resources 
which the neighbouring country might have afforded 
him. After a fortnight's labour, he had been able to 
collect only twelve boats, and five days' provision for his 
army. An attempt to obtain possession of a depository 
of provisions at Bennington, had failed, and two detach- 
ments, sent on that service, had been defeated. The 
militia of the eastern and lower country were rapidly- 
collecting, and threatened to raise obstacles still mor« 
formidable than those of nature. 

Gates was now appointed to succeed Schuyler, and 
arrived at the scene of action on the 2 1 st of August, 1 177. 

It was fortunate for general Gates, that the retreat 
from Ticonderoga had been conducted under other 
N 2 



1 50 GATES. 

auspices than his, and that he took the command when 
the indefatigable but unrequited labours of Schuyler, 
and the courage of Starke and his mountaineers had 
already insured the ultimate defeat of Burgoyne, who, 
notwithstanding his unfavourable prospects, would not 
think of saving his army by a timely retreat, was highly 
propitious to the new American commander. 

After collecting thirty days' provision, Burgoyne pass- 
ed the Hudson and encamped at Saratoga. Gates, with 
numbers already equal, and daily increasing, began to 
advance towards him with a resolution to oppose his 
progress at the risk of a battle. He encamped at Still- 
water, and Burgoyne hastened forward to open the. way 
with his sword. On the 17th of September, the two 
armies were within four miles of each other. Two days 
after, skirmishes between advanced parties terminated 
in an engagement almost general, in which the utmost 
efforts of the British merely enabled them to maintain 
the footing of the preceding day. 

Burgoyne, unassisted by the British forces under Clin- 
ton at New York, found himself unable to pursue his 
march down the river, and in the hope of this assistance, 
was content to remain in his camp, and stand on the de- 
fensive. His army was likewise diminished by the de- 
sertion of the Indians and Canadian militia, to less than 
one-half of its original number. Gates, finding his forces 
largely increasing, being plentifully supplied with pro- 
visions, and knowing that Burgoyne had only a limited 
store, which was rapidly lessening, and could not be re- 
cruited, was not without hopes that victory would come, 
in time, even Avithout a battle. His troops were so nu- 
merous, and his fortified position so strong, that he was 
able to take measures for preventing the retreat of the 
enemy, by occupying the strong posts in his rear. Ac- 
cordingly, nineteen days passed without any further 
operations, a delay as ruinous to one party, as it was 
advantageous to the other. At the end of this period, 
the British general found his prospects of assistance as 
remote as ever, and the consumption of his stores so 
alarming, that retreat or victory became unavoidable 
alternatives. 

On the 8th of October a warm action ensued, in which 



GATES. 1 5 I 

the British were every where repulsed, and a part of 
their lines occupied by their enemies. Burgoyne's loss 
was very considerable in killed, wounded, and prison- 
ers, while the favourable situation of Gates's army made 
its losses in the battle of no moment. Burgoyne retired 
in the night to a stronger camp, but the measures im- 
mediately taken by Gates to cut off his retreat, compelled 
him, without delay, to regain his former camp at Sara- 
toga. There he arrived with little molestation from his 
adversary. His provisions being now reduced to the 
supply of a few days, the transport of artillery and bag- 
gage, towards Canada, being rendered impracticable by 
the judicious measures of his adversary, the British ge- 
neral resolved upon a rapid retreat, merely with what 
the soldiers could carry. 

On a careful scrutiny, however, it was found that they 
were deprived even of this resource, as the passes through 
which their route lay, were so strongly guarded, that 
nothing but artillery could clear them. In this despe- 
rate situation, a parley took place, and on the 16th of 
October, the whole army surrendered to Gates. The 
prize obtained consisted of more than five thousand pri- 
soners, some fine artillery, seven thousand muskets, cloth- 
ing for seven hundred men, with a great quantity of 
tents, and other military stores. All the frontier for- 
tresses were immediately abandoned to the victors. 

It is not easy to overrate the importance of this suc- 
cess. It may be considered as deciding the war of the 
revolution, as from that period the British cause began 
rapidly to decline. The capture of Cornwallis was hard- 
ly of equal importance to that of Burgoyne, and was, in 
itself, an event of much less splendour, and productive 
of less exultation. 

How far the misfortunes of Burgoyne were owing to 
the accidents beyond human control, and how far they 
are ascribed to the individual conduct and courage of 
the American commander, would be a useless and invi- 
dious inquiry. Reasoning on the ordinary ground, his 
merits were exceedingly great, and this event entitled 
him to a high rank among the deliverers of his country. 
The memory of all former misfortunes were effaced by 
the magnitude of this victory, and the government and 



152 GATES. 

people vied with each other in expressing their admira- 
tion of the conquering general. Besides the thanks of 
congress, the general received from the president a gold 
medal, as a memorial of their gratitude. 

Every war abounds with cases of private suffering 
and distress ; very few of which become public, though 
sympathy and curiosity are powerfully excited by nar- 
ratives of that kind; and the feelings of a whole nation 
are remarkably swayed by them. The expedition of 
Burgoyne was adorned by the romantic and affecting 
tales of M^Crea, and lady Harriet Ackland. The latter 
is of no further consequence in this narration, than as it 
reflects great credit on the politeness and humanity of 
general Gates. Major Ackland, the husband of this 
lady, was wounded and made prisoner in one of the bat- 
tles preceding the surrender, and his wife, in going to 
the hostile camp to attend her husband, met with a re- 
ception, which proved that long converse with military 
scenes, had left the virtues of humanity wholly unim- 
paired in his bosom. 

Gates was now placed at the head of the board of war; 
a post of trust and dignity, scarcely inferior to that of 
commander in chief. 

He was in a private station, residing on his farm in 
Virginia, in June, 1780. The low state of their affairs 
in the southern districts, induced congress, on the 13th 
of that month, to call him to the chief command in that 
quarter. The state of affairs in Pennsylvania, Jersey, 
and New York, afforded sufl^cient employment for Wash- 
ington, and Gates being the next in rank and reputation, 
was resorted to as the last refuge of his suffering country. 

The efforts of the British in the southern states had 
been very strenuous and successful. Charleston, the 
chief city, had been taken. All the American detach- 
ments, collected with great difBculty, easily dissolved by 
their own fears, ill furnished with arms, and unqualified 
for war, by inexperience and want of discipline, were 
instantly overwhelmed and dispersed by the well equip- 
ped cavalry of Tarleton, and the veterans of Rawdon and 
Cornwallis. The American leaders were famous for 
their valour, perseverance and activity, but these quali- 
ties would not supply the place of guns, and of hands to 



GATES. 153 

manage them. At this crisis, Gates took the command 
of that miserable remnant which bore the name of the 
southern army, and which mustered about fifteen hun- 
dred men. A very numerous and formidable force exist- 
ed in the promises of North Carolina and Virginia. The 
paper armies of the new states always made a noble ap- 
pearance. All the muniments of war overflowed the 
skirts of these armies ; but, alas 1 the field was as deso- 
late as the paper estimate was full. The promised army 
proved to be only one-tenth of the stipulated number, 
and assembled at the scene of action long after the fixed 
time. The men were destitute of arms and ammunition, 
and, what was most to be regretted, were undisciplined. 

Two modes of immediate action were proposed. One 
was to advance into the country possessed by the enemy, 
by a road somewhat circuitous, but which would supply 
the army with accommodation and provisions. Gates 
was averse to dilatory measures. He was, perhaps, 
somewhat misled by the splendid success which had 
hitherto attended him. He was anxious to come to ac- 
tion immediately, and to terminate the war by a few bold 
and energetic efforts. He, therefore, resolved to collect 
all the troops into one body, and to meet the enemy as 
soon as possible. Two days after his arrival in camp, 
he began his march by the most direct road. This road, 
unfortunately, led through a barren country, in the hot- 
test and most unwholesome season of the year. 

During this march, all the forebodings of those who 
preferred a different track, were amply fulfilled. A scanty 
supply of cattle, found nearly wild in the woods, was 
their principal sustenance, while bread or flour was 
almost wholly wanting ; and when we add to a scarcity 
of food, the malignity of the climate and the season, we 
shall not wonder that the work of the enemy was anti- 
cipated in the destruction of considerable numbers by 
disease. The perseverance of Gates, in surmounting the 
obstacles presented by piny thickets and dismal swamps, 
deserves praise, however injudicious the original choice 
of such a road may be thought by some. In this course 
he effected a junction with some militia of North Caro- 
lina, and with a detachment under Potterfield. 

He finally took possession of Clermont, whence the 



154 GATES. 

British commander, lord Rawdon, had previously with- 
drawn. That general prepared, by collecting and cen- 
tring his forces in one body, to overwhelm him in a 
single battle. Lord Rawdon was posted, with his forces, 
at Camden. After some deliberation, the American 
leader determined to approach the English, and expose 
himself to the chance of a battle. 

Rumour had made the numbers of the Americans 
much greater than they really were in the imagination 
of the British. Cornwallis himself hastened to the scene 
of action; and, though mustering all his strength for 
this arduous occasion, could not bring two thousand 
men into the field. Nineteen, however, out of twenty, of 
these, were veterans of the most formidable qualifica- 
tions. With the reinforcement of seven hundred Vir- 
ginia militia, and some other detachments, Gates's army 
did not fall short of four thousand men. A very small 
portion of these were regular troops, while the rest were 
a wavering and undisciplined militia, whose presence 
■was rather injurious than beneficial. 

Notwithstanding his inferiority of numbers, Cornwal- 
lis found that a retreat would be more pernicious than 
a battle, under the worst auspices ; and he himself, on 
the 16th of August, prepared to attack his enemy. Ge- 
neral Gates had taken the same resolution at the same 
time ; and the adverse forces came to an engagement, in 
■which the Americans suffered a defeat. The loss of the 
battle was ascribed, with reason, to the unskilfulness of 
the militia. Among these, the rout and confusion was 
absolute and irretrievable, and Gates had the singular 
fortune of conducting the most prosperous and the most 
disastrous of the military enterprises in this war. 

Here was a dismal reverse in the life of Gates. His 
prosperous scale sunk at Camden as fast as it had mount- 
ed at Saratoga. There had been a difference of opinion 
as to the best road to the theatre of action, and the hard- 
ships and diseases which one party had foretold would 
infest the road which he took, actually exceeded what 
was menaced. A battle lost against half the number, in 
circumstances where the vanquished army was taken, 
in some degree, by surprise, would not fail to suggest 



GATES. 155 

suspicions as to the caution or discernment of the ge- 
neral. 

Gates continued in command till October the 5th, in 
the same year, about fifty days after the disaster at Cam- 
den. In this interval he had been busily employed in 
repairing the consequences of that defeat, and was now 
reposing for the winter. He was on that day, however, 
displaced, and subjected to the inquiry of a special court. 
The inquiry was a tedious one, but terminated finally in 
the acquittal of the general. He was reinstated in his 
military command in the year 1782. In the meantime, 
however, the great scenes of the southern war, especially 
the capture of Cornwallis, had past. Little room was 
afforded to a new general to gather either laurels or hen- 
bane. A particular detail of those transactions in which 
he was concerned, exceeds the limits prescribed to this 
hasty sketch. In like manner, we are unable to digest 
that voluminous mass of letters, evidences, and docu- 
ments, by which the resolution of congress, in favour of 
his conduct at Camden, was dictated. 

The capture of Cornwallis, which produced such 
grand and immediate consequences, swallowed up the 
memory of all former exploits, and whatever sentence 
the impartial historian may pronounce on the compara- 
tive importance of the capture of Burgoyne, and the sur- 
render of Cornwallis, to the national welfare, or to the 
merit of the leaders, the people of that time could not 
hearken to any such parallel. They swam in joy and 
exultation, and the hero of Yorktown was alike with 
congress and with the people, the only saviour of his 
country. 

When the revolution was completed. Gates retired to 
his plantation in Virginia. We are unacquainted with 
the particulars of his domestic economy, but have rea- 
son to infer that it was eminently mild and liberal, since 
seven years afterwards, when he took up his final resi- 
dence in New York, he gave freedom to his slaves. In- 
stead of turning them to the highest profit, he made 
provision for the old and infirm, while several of them 
testified their attachment to him by remaining in his 
family. In the characteristic virtue of planters, hospi- 
tality, Gates had no competitor ; and his reputation may 



156 GATES. 

well be supposed to put that virtue to a hard test He 
purchased, in the neighbourhood of New York, a spa- 
cious house, with valuable ground, for the life of himself 
and his wife, and here, with few exceptions, he remained 
for the rest of his life. 

No wonder that the military leaders in the revolution 
should aspire to the enjoyment of its civil honours af- 
terwards. The war was too short to create a race of 
mere soldiers. The merchants and lawyers who entered 
the army, became merchants and lawyers again, and had 
lost none of their primitive qualifications for adminis- 
tering the civil government. General Gates, however, 
was a singular example among the officers of high rank. 
His original profession was a soldier, and disabled him 
from acquiring the capacity suitable to the mere magis- 
trate and senator. During twenty-three years, he was 
only for a short time in a public body. In the year 1800, 
he was elected to the New York legislature, in conse- 
quence of a critical balance of the parties in that state, 
and withdrew again into private life, as soon as the pur- 
pose for which he was elected was gained. 

General Gates was a whig in England, and a repub- 
lican in America. His political opinions did not sepa- 
rate him from many respectable citizens, whose views 
differed widely from his own. 

He had a handsome person, tending to corpulence, in 
the middle of life, and remarkably courteous to all. He 
is said to have received a classical education, and not to 
have entirely neglected that advantage in after life. To 
science, literature, or erudition, however, he made no 
pretensions; but gave indisputable marks of a social, 
amiable, and benevolent disposition. 

He died, without posterity, at his customary abode, 
near New York, on the 10th of April, 1806, after having 
counted a long series of seventy-eight years. 

As the affecting tales of Miss M*Crea and lady Ack- 
land are alluded to in the foregoing sketch, and con- 
nected with an important period of the life of general 
Gates, we insert an account of those incidents, the for- 
mer from Ramsay, the latter from Thatcher's Journal, a 
▼aluable and interesting work, lately published in Boston. 

For some time previous to the capture of Burgoyne*» 



GATES. isr 

army by general Gates, many innocent persons fell vic- 
tims to the tomahawk and scalping knife of those sa- 
vages who accompanied the British army. Upwards of 
one hundred men, women, and children perished by the 
hands of those ruffians, "M'hose known rule of warfare 
is an undistinguished destruction of ail ages, sexes, and 
conditions." Among other instances, the murder of 
Miss Jenny M'Crea, excited universal horror. 

"This young lady, in the irmoccnce of youth, and the 
l)loom of beauty, the daughter of a steady loyalist, and 
engaged to be married to a British officer, was on the 
vei-y day of her intended nuptials, massacred by the sa- 
vage auxiliaries attached to the British army. Mr. 
Jones, her lover, from an anxiety for her safety, engaged 
some Indians to remove her tVom among the Americans, 
and promised to rewai'd the person who should bring 
h^r safe to him, with a barrel of rum. Two of the In- 
dians, who had conveyed her some distance, on the way 
to her intended husband, disputed, which of them should 
present her to Mr. Jones. Both were anxious for the 
reward. One of them killed her with his tomahawk, to 
prevent the other from receiving it. Burgoyne obliged 
the Indians to deliver up the murderer, and threatened 
to put him to death. His life was only spared, upon the 
Indians agreeing to terms, which the 'general thought 
would be more efficacious ihan an execution, in prevent- 
ing similar mischiefs." 

"General Gates was no less dignified and brave as a 
commander, than beneficent and generous as a conqueror. 
He was remarkable for his humanity to prisoners, and 
a desire to midgate the sufferings of the unfortunate. 
Among the objecis in distress, which claimed his atten- 
tion, was the lady of major Ackland, commander of the 
British grenadiers, who was dangerously wounded, and 
captured during the battle of the 7th of October. This 
heroic lady, from conjugal affection, was induced to fol- 
low the fortune of her husband during the whole cam- 
paign through the wilderness. Having been habituated 
to a mode of life with which those of rank and fortune 
are peculiarly favoured, her delicate frame w^as ill calcu- 
lated to sustain the indescribable privations and hard- 
ships to which she was unavoidably exposed during an 



158 GATES. 

active campaign. Her vehicle of conveyance vv^as, part 
of the time, a small two-w^heeled tumbril, drawn by a 
single horse, over roads almost impassable. Soon after 
she received the affecting intelligence that her husband 
had received a wound, and was a prisoner, she manifest- 
ed the greatest tenderness and affection, and resolved to 
visit him in our camp, to console and alleviate his suf- 
ferings. With this view she obtained a letter from Bur- 
goyne, to general Gates, and not permitting the prospect 
of being out in the night, and drenched in rain, to re- 
press her zeal, she proceeded in an open boat, with a 
few attendants, and arrived at our post in the night, in 
a suffering condition, from extreme wet and cold. The 
sentinel, faithful to his duty, detained them in the boat 
till major Dearborn, the officer of the guard, could ar- 
rive. He permitted them to land, and afforded lady 
Ackland the best accommodations in his power, and 
treated her with a cup of tea in his guard house. When 
general Gates, in the morning, was informed of the un- 
happy situation of lady Ackland, he immediately ordered 
her a safe escort, and treated her himself with the ten- 
derness of a parent, directing that every attention should 
be bestowed which her rank, her sex, character, and cir- 
cumstances, requ.ired. She was soon conveyed to Albany, 
where she found her wounded husband. 

"Lady Ackland accompanied major Ackland to Ca- 
nada, in 1776, and was called to attend on him while 
sick in a miserable hut at Chamblee. In the expedition 
to Ticonderoga, in 1777, she was positively enjoined not 
to expose herself to the risk and hazards which might 
occur on that occasion; but major Ackland having re- 
ceived a wound in the battle of Hubberton, she crossed 
lake Champlain, to pay her attention to him. After this 
she followed his fortune, and shared his fatigue, while 
traversing the dreary, woody country, to Fort Edward. 
Here, the tent in which they lodged, took fire, by night, 
from which they escaped with the utmost difficulty. — 
During the action of the 19th of September, she was 
exposed to great fatigue, and inexpressible anxiety for 
the fate of her husband, being advanced in the front of 
the battle. On the 7th of October, during the heat of the 
conflict, lady Ackland took refuge among the wounded 



GATES. 159 

and dying; her husband commanding the grenadiers, 
was in the most exposed part of the action, and she in 
awful suspense awaiting his fate. The baroness Reidsel, 
and the wives of two other field officers, were her com- 
panions in painful apprehension. One of these officers 
was soon brought in dangerously wounded, and the death 
of the other was announced. It was not long before in- 
telligence was received that the British army was de- 
feated, and that major Ackland was desperately wounded 
and taken. The next day she proposed to visit her hus- 
band, in the American camp. General Burgoyne ob- 
serves, "Though I was ready to believe, for I had 
experienced, that patience and fortitude in a supreme 
degree, were to be found, as well as every other virtue, 
under the most tender forms, I was astonished at this 
proposal. After so long an agitation of the spirits, ex- 
hausted not only for want of rest, but, absolutely want 
of food, drenched in rain, for twelve hours together, that 
a w^oman should be capable of delivering herself to the 
enemy, probably in the night, and uncertain into what 
hands she might fall, appeared an effort above human 
nature. The assistance I was enabled to give, was small 
indeed ; I had not even a cup of wine to offer her, but I 
was told, she had found from some kind and fortunate 
hand, a little rum and dirty water. All I could furnish 
to her, was an open boat, and a few lines written on dirty 
and wet paper to general Gates, recommending her to 
his protection. It is due justice, at the close of this ad- 
venture, to say, that she was received and accommodated 
by general Gates, with all the humanity and respect, 
that her rank, her merits, and her fortunes, deserved. 

" Let such as are affected by these circumstances of 
alarm, hardship and danger, recollect that the subject 
of them was a woman of the most tender and delicate 
frame, of the gentlest manners, habituated to all the soft 
elegancies and refined enjoyments that attended high 
birth and fortune, and far advanced in a state, in which 
the tender cares, always due to the sex, become indis- 
pensably necessary. Her mind alone was formed for 
such trials.** 



160 GIBSON. 

GIBSON, John, was born at Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 
on the 23d of May, 1740. He received a classical edu- 
cation, and was an excellent scholar at the age of eigh- 
teen, when he entered the service. He made his first 
campaign under general Forbes, in the expedition which 
resulted in the acquisition of Fort Du Quesne, (Pitts- 
burg) from the French. At the peace of 1763, he set- 
tled at Fort Pitt, as a trader. Shortly after this, war 
broke out again with the Indians, and he was taken pri- 
soner at the mouth of Beaver creek, together with two 
men who were in his employment, while descending the 
Ohio in a canoe. One of the men was immediately 
burnt, and the other shared the same fate, as soon as the 
party reached the Kenhawa. General Gibson, however, 
was preserved by an aged squaw, and adopted by her in 
the place of her son, who had been killed in battle. He 
remained several years with the Indians, and became 
familiar with their language, habits, manners, customs 
and traditions. It is to be regretted, that the low degree 
of estimation in which these subjects were held, prevent- 
ed him from giving his collections to the public, as in 
the present state of taste for Indian antiquities, they 
would have been valuable. No person who had equal 
opportunities of acquiring information of this kind, was 
so well qualified to communicate it, except his late 
friend, the Rev. Mr. Heckewelder. At the termination 
of hostilities, he again settled at Fort Pitt. 

In 1774 he acted a conspicuous part in the expedition 
against the Shawnee Towns, under lord Dunmore; par- 
ticularly in negotiating the peace which followed, and 
restored many prisoners to their friends, after a capti- 
vity of several years. On this occasion, the celebrated 
speech of Logan, the Mingo chief, was delivered ; the 
circumstances connected with which, have still sufficient 
interest to justify a relation of them here, as received 
from the lips of general Gibson, a short time before his 
death. When the troops had arrived at the principal 
town, and while dispositions were making preparatory 
to the attack, he was sent on with a flag, and authority 
to treat for peace. As he approached, he met with Lo- 
gan, who was standing by the side of the path, and ac- 
costed him with, " My friend Logan, how do you do ? I 



ftlBSOH. 161 

am glad to see you." To which Logan, with a coldness of 
manner evidently intended to conceal feelings with which 
he was struggling, replied: "I suppose you are;" and 
turned away. On opening the business to the chiefs (all 
but Logan) assembled in council, he found them sin- 
cerely desirous of peace. During the discussion of the 
terms, he felt himself plucked by the skirt of his capote^ 
and turning, beheld Logan standing at his back, with his 
face convulsed with passion, and beckoning him to fol- 
low. This he hesitate«d to do; but reflecting that he was 
at least a match for his supposed antagonist, being arm- 
ed with dirk and side pistols, and in muscular vigour 
more than his equal, and considering, above all, that the 
slightest indication of fear might be prejudicial to the 
negotiation, he followed in silence, while the latter, with 
hurried steps, led the way to a copse of woods at some 
distance. Here they sat down, and Logan having re- 
gained the power of utterance, after an abundance of 
tears, delivered the speech in question, desiring that it 
might be comimunicated to lord Dunmore, for the pur- 
pose of removing all suspicion of insincerity on the part 
of the Indians, in consequence of the refusal of a chief 
of such note to take part in the ratification of the treaty. 
It was accordingly translated and delivered to lord Dun- 
more immediately afterwards. General Gibson would not 
positively assert that the speech as given by Mr. Jeffer- 
son, in the Notes on Virginia, is an exact copy of his 
translation, although particular expressions in it, induc- 
ed him to think that it is; but he was altogether certain 
that it contains the substance. He was of opinion, how- 
ever, that no translation could give an adequate idea of 
the original ; to which, the language of passion, uttered 
in tones of the deepest feeling, and with gesture at once 
natural, graceful, and commanding, together with a con- 
sciousness on the part of the hearer, that the sentiments 
proceeded immediately from a desolate and broken heart, 
imparted a grandeur and force inconceivably great. In 
comparison with the speech as delivered, he thought the 
translation lame and insipid. 

On the breaking out of the revolutionary war, he was 
appointed to the command of one of the continental re- 
giments, and served with the armv at New York, and in 
o 2 



162 oiasoN. 

the retreat through Jersey; but for the rest of the war, 
was employed on the western frontier, for which, by long 
experience in Indian warfare, he was peculiarly quali- 
fied. In 1788, he was a member of the convention which 
formed the constitution of Pennsylvania, and subsequent- 
ly a judge of the court of common pleas of Allegheny 
county, and also a major-general of militia. In 1 800, he 
received from president Jefferson, the appointment of 
secretary of the territory of Indiana ; an office which he 
held till that territory became a state. At this time, find- 
ing that the infirmities of age were thickening on him, 
and labouring under an incurable cataract, he retired to 
Braddock's field, the seat of his son-in-law, George 
Wallace, Esq. where he died on the 10th of April, 1822 ; 
having borne through life the character of a brave sol- 
dier and an honest man. 

The following is the speech of Logan, alluded to in 
the foregoing sketch, and which the compiler conceives 
will be proper in this place : 

Spep.ck of Logan, a Mingo Chief, to Lord Dunmore, Gover- 
nor of Virginia, 1774. 

" I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered 
Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat: if ever 
he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. Dur- 
ing the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan 
remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such 
was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed 
as they passed, and said, ' Logan is the friend of white 
men.' I had even thought to have lived with you, but 
for the injuries of one man. Colonel Cresap, the last 
spring, in cold blood, and unprovoked, murdered all the 
relations of Logan^ not even sparing my women and children. 
There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living 
creature. Tliis called on me for revenge. I have sought it: I 
have killed many: I have fully glutted my vengeance : for my 
country^ I rejoice at the beams of peace. But do not harbour 
a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. 
He will not turn on his heel to save his life. Wlw is there to 
mourn for Logan P Not one,'* 



GIBSON. 163 

GIBSON, George, generally known and admired for 
his wit and social qualities, and esteemed by all who 
knew him, for the honourable and generous feelings of 
his heart. Of the vast variety of anecdotes connected 
with him, the limits of a sketch do not admit of the few 
still retained in the recollection of his acquaintances : 
we have room only for a brief outline of his services to 
his country, which were neither few nor unimportant. 

He was born at Lancaster, Pennsylvania, in October, 
1754. After passing through the usual academical 
course, he was placed in a respectable mercantile house 
in Philadelphia, and after the expiration of his appren- 
ticeship, made several voyages to the West Indies as a 
supercargo. But growing tired of a pursuit which pro- 
mised no rapid advancement, he retired to Fort Pitt, at 
that time a frontier post, within the actual jurisdiction 
of Virginia, where his brother was established in the 
^ Indian trade. Here his brother-in-law, captain Callen- 
\ der, put under his direction a trading adventure to the 
! British post on the Illinois, which ended in the loss of 
I the whole capital embarked. Discouraged by want of 
j success in mercantile matters, he married, and rented a 
[farm and mills, near Carlisle, in Cumberland county, but 
\wa.s again unsuccessful, owing to a want of practical 
' nowledge of the business into which he entered. In 
these circumstances, the revolution found him; when, 
leaving his wife and child under the care of her father, 
he returned to Fort Pitt, M'here he raised a company of 
one hundred men on his own authority. With these, he 
marched to Williamsburg, the seat of the government of 
Virginia, and was immediately appointed a captain in 
one of the two regiments then raising by that state. His 
mien possessed all that sense of individual independence, 
and all that hardihood and desperate daring, which the 
absence of most of the restraints of civilization, and fa- 
miliarity with danger, never fails to produce on the in- 
habitants of an Indian frontier: qualities, which, although 
of inestimable value in the hour of battle, are not those 
which ensure a prompt obedience, and a ready subjection 
to discipline, and the police of a camp : and this compa- 
ny, by its turbulence, and the frequent battles of its 
members with the soldiers of every other corps with 



164 GIBSON. 

■which it happened to be quartered, acquired the name 
of " Gibson's lambs;" an appellation which it retained 
long after captain Gibson had ceased to command it. It 
was composed entirely of sharp-shooters, and did good 
service on the 25th of October, 1775, at the attack on the 
town of Hampton, by a naval force under lord Dunmore ; 
where having arrived along with another company, by 
a forced march from Williamsburg, during the preced- 
ing night, it was posted in the houses fronting the water, 
whence the soldiers so galled the enemy with small 
arms, as to drive him from his position, with the loss 
of a number of men, and a tender, which fell into their 
possession. 

About this time, the scarcity of gunpowder in the 
army became alarming, and urgent applications were 
made by general Washington to congress, and the re- 
spective states, for a supply. As the article was not ge- 
nerally manufactured in the colonies, it was necessary 
to procure it from abroad; and for this purpose, the at- 
tention of government was turned towards New Orleans. 
As Spain, however, could not furnish munitions of war 
to a belligerent, without a manifest breach of her neu- 
trality, it was evident that the success of a negotiation 
with one of her dependencies, would depend on the de- 
gree of secrecy and address with which it should be con- 
ducted; and captain Gibson was selected as a person 
possessing, in an eminent degree, the qualifications re- 
quired to manage it with the best prospect of success 
Having received his credentials, he repaired to Pittsburg, 
with twenty-five picked men of his company, and de- 
scended the river with a cargo of fiour, ostensibly as a 
trader. The voyage was pregnant with adventures, which 
possess all the freshness of the incidents of a romance ; 
but of these, the limits of a rapid sketch like the present, 
precludes the insertion of all but one. The Indians im- 
mediately on the banks of the Ohio and Mississippi, were 
hostile; and parties of them in canoes frequently evinced 
an intention to attack the boat, but were deterred by the 
alacrity and determined countenance of the crew. Cap- 
tain Gibson arrived at the falls of the Ohio, in the even- 
ing about dusk, after having observed no indications of 
Indians for some days, and being without a pilot, he 



GIBSON. 165 

determined to land, and pass the falls on the ensuing 
morning. But just as the men were fastening the boat 
to the shore, a strong party of Indians appeared on the 
bank above, and ordered them to come ashore. Resist- 
ance would have been useless, as it was plain that the 
lives of the crew were in their power; and captain Gib- 
son was led between two warriors with cocked rifles, up 
the ascent to the Indian camp, where he was interrogat- 
ed by the chief. He told the most plausible story he 
was able suddenly to invent, of hi? being an American 
deserter, on his way to join the British in Florida; but 
just as he seemed to have made a favourable impression 
on the chief, his surprise may more easily be conceived 
than described, at being interrupted by a laugh from an 
Indian who had before appeared inattentive to every 
thing that was passing, and who exclaimed in very good 
English, " Well done, George Gibson ! And you think 
nobody here knows you!" But observing captain Gib- 
son's consternation, who expected nothing less than to 
be shot down on the spot by his two attendants with the 
cocked rifles, he added, " But show no signs of fear. 
None of the party but myself understands a word of Eng- 
lish: only keep your own secret, and leave the rest to 
me, and I shall contrive to bring you off:" which he 
Tery handsomely did. On being asked by captain Gib- 
son how he had discovered his name, he answered that 
he had lived a long time about the house of his brother, 
the late general Gibson, at Fort Pitt, where he often 
heard the family speak of George; that he knew Thomas, 
his other brother, and as he at once had discovered cap- 
tain Gibson to be a brother of John's, he knew that he 
could be no other than George. He had received kind- 
nesses from general Gibson, and in this way determined 
to show his gratitude for them. 

Next morning they v/ere permitted to depart, after 
being piloted by an Indian over the falls. They were, 
however, pursued by the Indians, who either suspected, 
or had found out their true character, shortly after their 
departure, and who came up with them, in canoes, at a 
place called Henderson's Bend. They were suffered to 
approach pretty close, when a galling fire was opened on 
them by the crew of the boat, particularly from swivels, 



166 GIBSON. 

with which it was armed ; in consequence of which, the 
Indians were thrown into such confusion, that some of 
their canoes were overturned, and they desisted. They, 
however, landed, and crossing the tongue of land which 
formed the bend, attacked the boat from both sides of 
the river, at a point lower down, but without effect, the 
crew having suffered no loss, except that of two men 
wounded. 

On arriving at New Orleans, he entered on his nego- 
tiation with the government, in which he was success- 
ful ; being assisted by the influence of Oliver Pollock, 
Esq., an American gentleman resident there, and in fa- 
vour with Don Galvos, the governor, and to whose cor- 
respondent, the gunpowder was afterwards consigned. 
But as suspicions of the object were excited in the mind's 
of the British merchants and commercial agents in the 
place, the governor deemed it prudent to have captain 
Gibson arrested. In a few days, however, he was per- 
mitted to escape, being first provided with horses for 
himself and his servant. Having ascended the river as 
far as the first high land, he struck off into the wilder- 
ness ; shortly after which, his horses were stolen by In- 
dians, and the rest of the journey (about eighteen hundred 
miles) was performed on foot through regions before 
unvisited by a white man, and among tribes of Indians 
whose language he frequently did not understand, but 
by whom he was invariably treated with kindness. Ar- 
riving at Pittsburg in the garb of an Indian, and with a 
complexion whose native brown had received the deep- 
est tint which the rays of the sun could impart, he suc- 
cessfully passed himself for an Indian, on the officers of 
the garrison, many of whom had long been his intimate 
acquaintances. 

At his return to Williamsburg, he was appointed to 
the command of a state regiment, furnished by Virginia, 
to make up a deficiency in her contingent of continental 
troops, and received by the United States on the conti- 
nental establishment. With this regiment he joined the 
army under general Washington, shortly before the 
evacuation of York Island, and was attached to the di- 
vision of general Lee. This division followed the retreat 
of the g^and army with lingering marches, and by a 



GIBSON. 167 

separate route, till the seizure of Lee's person by the 
enemy, near Morristovvn, when it quickened its pace 
under Sullivan, atid formed a junction with Washing- 
ton's army, at the cantonment, on the right bank of the 
Delaware. At the battle of Trenton, which soon follow- 
ed, colonel Gibson served under the immediate command 
of general Washington, and participated in all the perils 
and toils of that gallant little army, whose subsequent 
achievements contributed so much to reanimate the 
drooping spirits of their country. 

He continued to serve in the army immediately com- 
manded by general Washington, till the close of the 
campaign of 1778, and was in nearly all the principal 
battles which were fought during that time; but the 
period for which his men had been enlisted having ex- 
pired, and the regiment not being recruited, he was or- 
dered to the command of the depot of prisoners near 
York, Pennsylvania, which he retained till the end of 
the war. 

At the peace, he retired to his farm in Cumberland 
county, and shortly afterwards received from the su- 
preme executive council of the state, the commission of 
county lieutenant, the duties of which he performed till 
the beginning of 1791. At this time, being in Philadel- 
phia, the seat of the federal government, the command 
of one of the regiments, then raising for general St. 
Clair's expedition, was offered to him by president 
Washington, in terms that precluded its rejection. The 
particulars of this disastrous campaign are too well re- 
membered to be narrated here. The troops were kd from 
the recruiting rendezvous into the presence of the enemy 
without discipline, and destitute of many of the appoint- 
ments and munitions of war, which are essential to the 
efficiency of an army. But, more than any other cause, 
a want of harmony between the first and second in com- 
mand, contributed to produce the catastrophe with which 
the campaign ended. Colonel Gibson was the intimate 
friend of the latter, and this naturally produced a want 
of cordiality towards him on the part of the former, 
which was so markedly evinced the day preceding the 
action, as to induce him to express a determination to 
retire from the service as soon as he could do so without 



168 GIBSON. 

disgrace. Next morning he was at the head of his regi- 
ment, which was literally cut to pieces, exhibiting a loss 
of eighteen commissioned officers, and more than half 
of its non-commissioned officers and privates. At the 
close of the action, and in the last of several charges 
which were executed by this regiment with the bayonet, 
he received a wound in the groin, which was immedi- 
ately perceived to be mortal. He was brought off the 
field by his nephew, captain Slough, and one or two 
others of his surviving officers, and languished at Fort 
Jefferson till the 11th of December following, bearing 
the most excruciating pain, in a wretched hovel, without 
surgical attendance, and almost without common neces- 
saries, with an equanimity of temper for which he had all 
his life been remarkable. 

It is not intended to speak harshly of general St. 
Clair, or to attribute to him an intention to do injustice 
to the memory of an unfortunate brother officer. He has 
himself paid the debt of nature, and it would now be 
dastardly to assail his reputation, even if there were a 
desire to do so. He was a man of integrity, and a gene- 
ral of undoubted talent; and the country owes much to 
his memory: still, however, jiistice is equally due to the 
memory of the subject of this notice. His i-egiment com- 
posed the riijht wing, which was under the command of 
general Butler; but as a corps, it was under the imme- 
diate conimaad of its colonel. This may be a satisfactory 
reason, why, in speaking of the incidents of the battle, 
he was not mentioned in the official report. But the 
particular designation of this regir?K'nt as " Butler's, 
Patterson's, and Clarke's battalion i," might lead to an 
inference that the name of its colonel was studiously 
kept out of view. The omission of the name of colonel 
Gibson, may have been, and j>ro!)ably was, accidental ; 
but it was unjust. That his personal exertions during 
the action fell under the immediate observation of the 
commanding general, is proved by the testimony of cap- 
tain Denny (one of the general's aids) in the investiga- 
tion which took place by a committee of congress; an 
account of which was afterwards published by the ge- 
neral himself. By this it appears, (see St. Clair's Nar- 
rative, page 224-5,) that the general frequently gave 



GIBSON. 169 

orders to colonel Gibson in person; and that the latter, 
who, after the fall of general Butler, commanded the 
right wing, by direction, and under the eye of general 
St. Clair, charged a body of Indians who had broken 
into the camp, and retook the part of it of which they 
had taken possession. There is no point in which an 
officer is so sensitive as in this ; yet there is no criterion 
of merit more fallacious than the official report of a bat- 
tle. It is these reports, however, which, for the most 
part, settle the question with the historian. It is need- 
less to mention, that the account of this battle, given in 
Marshal's Life of Washington, is taken exclusively froni 
general St. Clair's report; and this renders it the more 
necessary to attempt an act of justice to the merits of 
colonel Gibson, even at this late day. 

Perhaps, no man had a wider circle of acquaintance 
or warmer friends among the principal actors in our 
great political drama, than the subject of this memoir. 
With his talents and capacity for business, and with the 
influence of those who had not only the power, but the 
inclination, to serve him ; a man with a single eye to his 
own advancement, would at once have made his way to 
office and distinction ; but, of this, he was culpably ne- 
gligent. He never sought preferment, and when it came, 
it was at the solicitation of his friends, not of himself. 
Nature had endowed him with talents of the first order. 
He had a peculiar talent for acquiring languages, on ac- 
count of which, his schoolmates gave him the name of 
Latin George. He spoke French, Spanish, and German ; 
the latter vernacularly, and with the purity of a Saxon. 
He read Italian, and, during his residence on the fron- 
tier, he picked up enough of the Delaware tongue to 
enable him to converse in it indifferently well. Without 
being profound, his acquirements as a scholar were re- 
spectable. Perhaps no man, with the same stock of in- 
formation, conversed so well. Wit, he undoubtedly 
possessed in an eminent degree, which he used with such 
discretion, as never to make an enemy, or lose a friend. 
In broad humour he was confessedly without a rival. 
He was the author of several humorous songs, mostly 
connected with the politics of the revolution, which he 
iang with incredible effect, but which, as they wer« 
p 



170 GREENE. 

never committed to paper, have passed away, along with 
him, and are now forgotten. 



GREENE, Nathaniel, a major-general in the army 
of the United States, and one of the most distinguished 
officers in the revolutionary war, was born in the town 
of Warwick, in Rhode Island, in the year 1741. His 
parents were quakers. His father was a respectable 
anchor-smith. Being intended for the business his father 
pursued, young Greene received nothing but a common 
English education. But, to himself, an acquisition so 
humble and limited, was unsatisfactory and mortifying. 
While he was a boy, he learned the Latin language chief- 
ly by his own industry. Having procured, in part, by 
his own economy, a small library, he spent his evenings, 
and all the time he could redeem from business, in re- 
gular study. He read with a view to general improve- 
ment: but military history occupied a considerable share 
of his attention, and constituted his delight. 

He embarked in his father's line of business, and in 
the regular pursuit of it, employed a considerable por- 
tion of his time, until he was elevated, at an unusually 
early age, to a seat in the legislature of his native colo- 
ny. In this situation, the commencement of the revolu- 
tionary war found him; and, the undisguised part which 
he took in promoting an appeal to arms, caused him to 
be dismissed from the society of friends, of which he had 
antecedently been a member. 

He began his military career as a private in a mili- 
tary association, of which he was the principal promoter, 
and which was chartered under the name of the Kentish 
Guards^ and commanded by general James M. Varnum. 
But in the year 1775, Rhode Island having raised three 
regiments of militia, amounting in the whole to about 
sixteen hundred, and officered by some of her most dis- 
tinguished inhabitants, she placed them under the com- 
mand of Mr. Greene, with the rank of brigadier-general, 



GREENE. 171 

who, without loss of time, conducted them to head quar- 
ters, in the village of Cambridge. 

Here, having, by a single act of promotion, after a 
noviciate of about seven months, exchanged the rank of 
a private, for that of a general officer, he soon distin- 
guished himself, in his present station, and offered to 
others, a most salutary example. This he did in a very 
special manner, and, with the happiest effect, by his 
prompt obedience to the commands of his superiors, at 
a time, when the subordination, which alone can render 
an army efficient and powerful, was not yet established; 
by habits of strict and laborious attention, in the regu- 
lar study of the military science, and by the excellent 
discipline which he caused to be introduced into his own 
biigade. 

General Greene's merit and abilities, as well in the 
council as in the field, were not long unnoticed by gene- 
ral Washington, who reposed in him the utmost confi- 
dence, and paid a particular deference to his advice and 
opinion, on all occasions of doubt and difficulty. 

He was appointed major-general by congress, the 26th 
of August, 1776. Towards the close of that year, he 
was at the Trenton surprise; and, at the beginning of the 
next, was at the battle of Princeton; two enterprises not 
more happily planned than judiciously and bravely exe- 
cuted, in both of which he highly distinguished himself, 
eerving his noviciate under the American Fabius. 

At the battle of Germantown he commanded the left 
wing of the American army, and his utmost endeavours 
were exerted to retrieve the fortune of that day, in 
which his conduct met with the approbation of the com- 
mander in chief. 

In March, 1778, he was appointed quarter-master- 
general, which office he accepted under a stipulation, that 
his rank in the army should not be affected by it, and 
that he should retain his right to command, in time of 
action, according to his rank and seniority. This he 
exercised at the battle of Monmouth, where he com- 
manded the right wing of the army. 

About the middle of the same year, an attack being 
planned by the Americans, in conjunction with the 
French fleet, on the British garrison at Newport, Rhode 



1T2 GREENE. 

Island, general Sullivan was appointed to the command, 
under whom general Greene served. This attempt was 
unsuccessful ; the French fleet having sailed out of the 
harbour, to engage lord Howe's fleet, they were dispers- 
ed by a storm, and the Americans were obliged to raise 
the siege of Newport, in doing which, general Greene 
displayed a great degree of skill, in drawing off* the army 
in safety. 

After the hopes of the British generals to execute some 
decisive stroke to the northward were frustrated, they 
turned their attention to the southern states, as less ca- 
pable of defence, and more likely to reward the invaders 
with ample plunder. A grand expedition was, in conse- 
quence, planned at New York, where the army embarked 
on the 26th of December, 1779 : they landed on the 1 1th 
of February, 1780, within about thirty miles of Charles- 
ton, which, after a brave defence, was surrendered to sir 
Henry Clinton, on the 12th of May. 

A series of ill success followed this unfortunate -event. 
The American arms in South Carolina, were, in gene- 
ral, unsuccessful; and the inhabitants were obliged to 
submit to the invaders, whose impolitic severity was ex- 
tremely ill calculated to answer any of the objects for 
'which the war had been commenced. 

Affairs were thus circumstanced, when general Wash- 
ington appointed general Greene to the command of the 
American forces in the southern district. He arrived at 
Charlotte on the 2nd of December, 1780, accompanied 
by general Morgan, a brave officer, who had distinguish- 
ed himself to the northward, in the expedition against 
Burgoyne. He found the forces he was to command, re- 
duced to a very small number, by defeat and by desertion. 
The returns were nine hundred and seventy continentals, 
and one thousand and thirteen militia. Military stores, 
provisions, forage, and all things necessary, were, if pos- 
sible, in a more reduced state than his army. His men 
were without pay, and almost without clothing: and 
supplies of the latter were not to be had, but from a 
distance of two hundred miles. In this perilous and em- 
barrassed situation, he had to oppose a respectable and 
victorious army. Fortunately for him, the conduct of 
some of the friends of royalty obliged numbers, other- 



GREENE. IT'S 

wise disposed to remain neuter, to take up arms in their 
own defence. This, and the prudent measures the ge- 
neral took for removing the innumerable difficulties and 
disadvantages he was surrounded with, and for conci- 
liating the affections of the inhabitants, soon brought 
together a considerable force, far inferior, however, to 
that of the British, who deemed the country perfectly- 
subjugated. 

After he had recruited his forces with all the friends 
to the revolution that he could assemble, he sent a con- 
siderable detachment under general Morgan, to the west- 
ern extremities of the state, to protect the well-disposed 
inhabitants from the ravages of the tories. This force, 
which was the first that had for a considerable time ap- 
])eared there, on the side of the Americans, inspired the 
friends of liberty with new courage, so that numbers of 
them crowded to the standard of general Morgan, who, 
at length, became so formidable, that lord Cornwallis 
thought proper to send colonel Tarleton to dislodge him 
from the station he had taken. This officer was at the 
head of a thousand regular troops, and had two field- 
pieces. He came up, on the 17th of January, 1781, at a 
place called Cowpens, with general Morgan, whose force 
was much inferior, and was composed of two-thirds mi- 
litia, and one-third continentals. An engagement was 
the immediate consequence. 

Morgan gained a complete victory over an officer, the 
rapidity and success of whose attacks, until that time, 
might have entitled him to make use of the declaration 
of Caesar, " veni, vidi, vici." Upwards of five hundred 
of the British laid down their arms, and were made pri- 
soners ; a very considerable number were killed. Eight 
hundred stand of arms, two field-pieces, and thirty-five 
baggagC'Wagons fell to the victors, who had only twelve 
killed and sixty wounded. 

This brilliant success quite disconcerted the plan of 
operations formed by lord Cornwallis. Having enter- 
tained no idea of any enemy to oppose in South Carolina, 
the conquest of which he deemed complete, he had made 
every preparation for carrying his arms to the north- 
ward, to gather the laurels, which, he imagined, awaited 
him. He now found himself obliged to postpone this 
p 2 



174. GREENE. 

design. He marched with rapidity after general Mor- 
gan, in hopes not only to recover the prisoners, but to 
revenge Tarleton's losses. The American general, by a 
rapidity of movements, and the interference of Provi- 
dence, eluded his efforts ; and general Greene effected a 
junction of the two divisions of his little army, on the 
7th of February. Still, he was so far inferior to lord 
Cornwallis, that he was obliged to retreat northward; 
and, notwithstanding the vigilance and activity of his 
enemy, he brought his men in safety into Virginia. 

In Virginia, general Greene received some reinforce- 
ments, and had the promise of more; on which, he re- 
turned again into North Carolina, where, on their 
arrival, he hoped to be able to act on the offensive. He 
encamped in the vicinity of lord Cornwallis's army. By 
a variety of the best concerted manoeuvres, he so judi- 
ciously supported the arrangement of his troops, by the 
secrecy and promptitude of his motions, that, during 
three weeks, v/hile the enemy remained near him, he pre- 
vented them from taking any advantage of their superi- 
ority, and even cut off all opportunity of their receiving 
succours from the royalists. 

About the beginning of March, he effected a junction 
with a continental regiment, and two considerable bodies 
of Virginia and Carolina militia. He then determined 
on attacking the British commander without loss of 
time, "being persuaded," as he declared in his subse- 
quent despatches, " that, if he was successful, it would 
prove ruinous to the enemy; and, if otherwise, that it 
would be but a partial evil to him." On the 14th, he 
arrived at Guilford court-house, the British then lying 
at twelve miles distance. 

His army consisted of about four thousand five hun- 
dred men, of whom near tWo-thirds were North Caro- 
lina and Virginia militia. The British were about two 
thousand four hundred, all regular troops, and the greater 
part inured to toil and service, in their long expedition 
under lord Cornwallis, who, on the morning of the 15th, 
being apprized of general Greene's intentions, marched 
to meet him. The latter disposed his army in three 
lines ; the militia of North Carolina were in front, the 
second line was composed of those of Virginia, and the 



GREENE. 175 

third, which was the flower of the army, was formed of 
continental troops, near fifteen hundred in number. They 
were flanked on both sides by cavalry and riflemen, and 
were posted on a rising ground, a mile and a half from 
Guilford court-house. 

The engagemant commenced at half past one o'clock, 
by a brisk cannonade, after which, the British advanced 
in three columns, and attacked the first line, composed 
of North Carolina militia. These, who, probably, had 
never been in action before, were panic struck at the 
approach of the enemy, and many of them ran away 
without firing a gun, or being fired upon, and even before 
the British had come nearer than one hundred and forty 
yards to them. Part of them, however, fired, but they 
then followed the example of their comrades. Their 
officers made every possible effort to rally them, but the 
advantages of their position, nor any other considera- 
tion, could induce them to maintain their ground. This 
shameful conduct had a great eff'ect upon the issue of 
the battle. The next line, however, behaved much bet- 
ter. They fought with great bravery, and were thrown 
into disorder, rallied, returned to the charge, and kept 
up a heavy fire for a long time, but were at length 
broken, and driven on the third line, when the engage- 
ment became general, very severe, and very bloody. At 
length, superiority of discipline carried the day from, 
superiority of numbers. The conflict endured an hour 
and a half; and was terminated by general Greene's or- 
dering a retreat, when he perceived that the enemy were 
on the point of encircling his troops. 

This was a hard fought action. Lord Cornwallis 
stated his losses in killed, wounded, and missing, at five 
hundred and thirty-two, among whom were several offi- 
cers of considerable rank. But this battle was, never- 
less, decisive in its consequences. Lord Cornwallis was, 
three days after, obliged to make a retrograde motion, 
and to return to Wilmington, situated two hundred 
miles from the scene of action. He was even under the 
necessity of abandoning a considerable number of those 
who were dangerously wounded. The loss of the Ame- 
ricans was about four hundred, killed and wounded. 

Some time after the battle ctf Guilford, general Greene 



176 GREENE. 

determined to return to South Carolina, to endeavour to 
expel the British from that state. His first object was 
to attempt the reduction of Camden, where lord Rawdon 
was posted with about nine hundred men. The strength 
of this place, which was covered on the south and east 
side by a river and creek, and to the westward and north- 
ward by six redoubts, rendered it impracticable to carry 
it by storm, with the small army general Greene had, 
consisting of about seven hundred continentals, the mi- 
litia having gone home. He, therefore, encamped at 
about a mile from the town, in order to prevent supplies 
from being brought in, and to take advantages of such 
favourable circumstances as might occur. 

Lord Rawdon's situation was extremely delicate. 
Colonel Watson, whom he had some time before detach- 
ed, for the protection of the eastern frontiers, and to 
whom he had, on intelligence of general Greene's inten- 
tions, sent orders to return to Camden, was so effectually 
watched by general Marion, that it was impossible for 
him to obey. His lordship's supplies were, moreover, 
very precarious; and should general Greene's reinforce- 
ments arrive, he might be so closely invested, as to be 
at length obliged to surrender. In this dilemma, the best 
expedient that suggested itself, was a bold attack; for 
which purpose, he armed every person with him, capa- 
ble of carrying a musket, not excepting his musicians 
and drummers. He sallied out on the 25th of April, and 
attacked general Greene in his camp. The defence was 
obstinate, and for some part of the engagement the ad- 
vantage appeared to be in favour of America. Lieute- 
nant-colonel Washington, who commanded the cavalry, 
had at one time not less than two hundred British pri- 
soners. However, by the misconduct of one of the Ame- 
rican regiments, victory was snatched from general 
Greene, who was compelled to retreat. He lost in the 
action about two hundred killed, wounded, and prison- 
ers. Rawdon lost about two hundred and fifty-eight. 

There was a great similarity between the consequences 
of the affair at Guilford, and those of this action. In the 
former, lord Cornwallis was successful, but was after- 
wards obliged to retreat two hundred miles from the 
scene of action, and for a time abandoned the grand 



GREENE. 177 

object of penetrating to the northward. In the latter, 
lord Rawdon had the honour of the field, but was shortly 
after reduced to the necessity of abandoning his post, 
and leaving behind him a number of sick and wounded. 

The evacuation of Camden, with the vigilance of ge- 
neral Greene, and the several officers he employed, gave 
a new complexion to affairs in South Carolina, wheiye 
the British ascendency declined more rapidly than it 
had been established. The numerous forts, garrisoned 
by the enemy, fell, one after the other, into the hands of 
the Americans. Orangeburg, Motte, Watson, George- 
town, Granby, and others, fort Ninety-Six excepted, 
were surrendered; and a very considerable number of 
prisoners of war, with military stores and artillery, were 
found in them. 

On the 22nd May, general Greene sat down before 
Ninety-Six, with the main part of his little army. The 
siege was carried on for a considerable time with great 
spirit, and the place was defended with equal bravery. 
At length, the works were so far reduced, that a surren- 
der must have been made in a few days, when a rein- 
forcement of three regiments, from Europe, arrived at 
Charleston, which enabled lord Rawdon to proceed to 
relieve this important post. The superiority of the ene- 
my's force reduced general Greene to the alternative of 
abandoning the siege altogether, or, previous to their 
arrival, of attempting the fort by storm. The latter was 
more agreeable to his enterprising spirit, and an attack 
was made on the morning of the 19th of June. He was 
repulsed, with the loss of one hundred and fifty men. 
He raised the siege, and retreated over the Saluda. 

Dr. Ramsay, speaking of the state of affairs about this 
period, says, "truly distressing was the situation of the 
American army, when in the grasp of victory, to be 
obliged to expose themselves to a hazardous assault, and 
afterwards to abandon a siege. When they were nearly 
masters of the whole country, to be compelled to retreat 
to its extremity, and after subduing the greatest part of 
the force sent against them, to be under the necessity 
of encountering still greater reinforcements, when their 
remote situation precluded them from the hope of re- 
ceiving a single recruit. In this gloomy situation, there 



178 Greene. 

were not wanting persons who advised general Greene 
to leave the state, and retire with his remaining forces 
to Virginia. To arguments and suggestions of this kind, 
he nobly replied, ' I will recover the country, or die in 
the attempt.' This distinguished officer, whose genius 
was most vigorous in those extremities, when feeble 
minds abandon themselves to despair, adopted the only 
resource now left him, of avoiding an engagement, until 
the British force should be divided." 

Some skirmishes, of no great moment, took place be- 
tween the detached parties of both armies, in July and 
August. September the 9th, general Greene having 
assembled about two thousand men, proceeded to attack 
the British, who, under the command of colonel Stew- 
art, were posted at Eutaw Springs. The American force 
was drawn up in two lines : the first, composed of Caro- 
lina militia, was commanded by generals Marion and 
Pickens, and colonel de Malmedy. The second, which 
consisted of continental troops, from North Carolina, 
Virginia, and Maryland, Mas commanded by general 
-Sumpter, lieutenant-colonel Campbell, and colonel Wil- 
liams ; lieutenant-colonel Lee, with his legion, covered 
the right flank, and lieutenant-colonel Henderson, with 
the state troops, covered the left. A corps de reserve 
was formed of the cavalry, under lieutenant-colonel 
Washington, and the Delaware troops under captain 
Kirkwood. As the Americans came forward to the at- 
tack, they fell in with some advanced parties of the ene- 
my, at about two or three miles ahead of the main body. 
These being closely pursued, were driven back, and the 
action soon became general. The militia were at length 
forced to give way, but were bravely supported by the 
second line. In the hottest part of the engagement, ge- 
neral Greene ordered the Maryland and Virginia conti- 
nentals to charge with trailed arms. This decided the 
fate of the day. " Nothing," says Dr. Ramsay, " could 
surpass the intrepidity of both officers and men on this 
occasion. They rushed on in good order through a 
heavy cannonade, and a shower of musketry, with such 
unshaken resolution, that they bore down all before 
them." The British were broken, closely pursued, and 
upwards of five hundred of them taken prisoners. They, 



GREENE. 179 

however, made a fresh stand, in a favourable position, 
in impenetrable shrubs, and a picquetted garden. Lieu- 
tenant-colonel Washington, after having made every ef- 
fort to dislodge them, was wounded and taken prisoner. 
Four six-pounders were brought forward to play upon 
them, but they fell into their hands; and the endeavours 
to drive them from their station being found impracti- 
cable, the Americans retired, leaving a strong picquet 
on the field of battle. Their loss was about five hundred ; 
that of the British upwards of eleven hundred. 

General Greene was honoured by congress with a 
British standard, and a gold medal, emblematical of the 
engagement, "for his wise, decisive, and magnanimous 
conduct, in the action at Eutaw Springs, in which, with 
a force inferior in number to that of the enemy, he ob- 
tained a most signal victory." 

In the evening of the succeeding day, colonel Stewart 
abandoned his post, and retreated towards Charleston, 
leaving behind upwards of seventy of his wounded, and 
a thousand stand of arms. He was pursued a consider- 
able distance, but in vain. 

The battle of Eutaw produced the most signal conse- 
quences in favour of America. The British, who had 
for such a length of time, lorded it absolutely in South 
Carolina, were, shortly after that event, obliged to con- 
fine themselves in Charleston, whence they never ven- 
tured but to make predatory excursions, with bodies of 
cavalry, which, in general, met with a very warm and 
very unwelcome reception. 

In Dr. Caldwell's memoirs of the life of general 
Greene, we have the following interesting story, as con- 
nected with the severe conflict at Eutaw Springs : 

*' Two young officers, bearing the same rank, met in 
personal combat. The American, perceiving that the 
Briton had a decided superiority in the use of the sabre, 
and being himself of great activity, and personal strength 
almost gigantic, closed with his adversary, and made 
him his prisoner. 

" Gentlemanly, generous, and high minded, this event, 
added to a personal resemblance which they were ob- 
served to bear to each other, produced between these? 



1 80 GREENE. 

two youthful warriors, an intimacy, which increased in 
a short time to a mutual attachment 

" Not long after the action, the American officer re- 
turning home, on furlough, to settle some private busi- 
ness, obtained permission for his friend to accompany 
him. 

"Travelling without attendants or guard, they were 
both armed and well mounted. Part of their route lay 
through a settlement highly disaffected to the American 
cause. 

" When in the midst of this, having, in consequence 
of a shower of rain, thrown around them their cloaks, 
which concealed their uniforms, they were suddenly en- jj 
countered by a detachment of tories. ] 

"The young American, determined to die rather than 
become a prisoner, especially to men whom he held in 
abhorrence for disloyalty to their country, and the ge- 
nerous Briton resolved not to survive one by whom he 
had been distinguished and treated so kindly, they both 
together, with great spirit and self possession, charged 
the royalists, having first made signals in their rear, as 
if directing others to follow them; and thus, without in- 
jury on either side, had the address and good fortune 
to put the party to flight. 

"Arriving in safety at the place of their destination, 
what was their surprise and augmented satisfaction, on 
finding, from some questions proposed by the Ameri- 
can officer's father, that they were first cousins I 

'*With increasing delight, the young Briton passed 
several weeks in the family of his kinsman, where the 
writer of this narrative saw him daily, and often listen- 
ed, with the rapture of a child, to the chequered story 
of his military adventures. 

"To heighten the occurrence, and render it more ro- 
mantic, the American officer had a sister, beautiful and 
accomplished, whose heart soon felt for the gallant 
stranger, more than the aff'ection due to a cousin. The 
attachment was mutual. 

" But here the adventure assumes a tragical cast. The 
youthful foreigner, being exchanged, was summoned to 
return to his regiment. The message was fatal to his 
peace. — But military honour demanded the sacrifice; 



GUF-ENE. 



181 



and the lady, generous and high nninded as himself, 
would not be instrumental in dimming his laurels. 

"The parting scene was a high-wrought picture of 
tenderness and sorrow. On taking leave, the parties 
mutually bound themselves, by a solemn promise, to re- 
main single a certain number of years, in the hope that 
an arrangement contemplated might again bring them 
together. A few weeks afterwards the lady expired un- 
der an attack of small-pox. The fate of the officer we 
never learnt." 

It has already been mentioned, that Greene's army 
was in a deplorable situation, and sufl'ered under every 
privation. In his letters to the secretary at war, he says, 
" We have three hundred men without arms, and more 
than one thousand so naked, that they can be put on 
duty only in cases of a desperate nature. We have been 
all winter in want of arms and clothing. The subsist- 
ence of the army is wretched, and we are without rum, 
or any kind of spirits." 

Again, he says, '*Our difficulties are so numerous, and 
our wants so pressing, that I have not a moment's relief 
from the most painful anxieties. I have more embar- 
rassment than it is proper to disclose to the world. Let 
it suffice to say, that this part of the United States has 
had a narrow escape. / have been seven jnonths in the field 
without taking off my clothes. " 

Judge Johnson, in his life of general Greene, says, 
" At the battle of Eutaw Springs, Greene says, ' that hun- 
dreds of my men were as naked as they were born.' 
Posterity will scarcely believe, that the bare loins of 
many brave men who carried death into the enemy's 
ranks at the Eutaw, were galled by their cartouch-boxes, 
while a folded rag or a tuft of moss protected the shoul- 
ders from sustaining the same injury from the musket. 
Men of other times will inquire, by what magic was this 
army kept together? By what supernatural power was 
it made to fight?" 

During the relaxation that followed, a dangerous plot 
was formed by some turbulent and mutinous persons in 
the army, to deliver up their brave general lo the British, 
This treasonable design owed its rise lo the hardships, 
wants, and calamities of the soldiers, who were ill paid, 
Q 



1 82 r.^EENE- 

ill clothed, and ill fed. The conspirators did not exceed 
twelve in number; and a providential discovery defeated 
the project. 

The following account of the contemplated mutiny of 
the army under general Greene, we copy from " Gar- 
den's anecdotes of the revolutionary war :" 

"'Destitute of clothing, stinted in food, severely afflict- 
ed by disease, discontent began to nmanifest itself in the 
most appalling colours. The first indication of it, was 
a placard near the quarters of general St. Clair, to this 
effect: 'can soldiers be expected to do their duty, clothed 
in rags, and fed on rice?' Suspicion attaching to a few 
disorganizing characters, they, to escape punishment, 
went over to the enemy, and tranquillity was for a time 
restored. The embers, however, that had been smother- 
ed, but not extinguished, were speedily revived, and were 
ready to burst into a flame through the intrigues of a 
sergeant of the Pennsylvanians, and two domestics at- 
tached to the family of general Greene, who opened a 
correspondence with the enemy, and engaged, on a given 
day, to deliver up their commander, and every officer of 
distinction. A female, who had noticed the murmuring 
of the disaffected, and unguarded expressions of the ring- 
leader, occasioned the discovery of the plot. The light 
troops, who had for some little time been indulged with 
comfortable quarters in the rear, to recover from the fa- 
tigues of severe service, were immediately brought for- 
ward. To them, not a shade of suspicion attached. 
Washington's, Gill's, and the legion cavalry, took their 
station in advance. The Delawares, Smith's company 
of Virginia regulars, and legion infantry, were drawn 
nearer to head quarters. A troop of horse was pushed 
forward to watch the motions of the enemy. The ser- 
geant was arrested, tried, and executed. The fate of the 
country was suspended by a thread; destruction would 
inevitably have followed irresolution. — Greene was sen- 
sible of it, and striking with decision, gave a death-blow 
to faction, and every symptom of revolt. It was a me- 
lancholy sight, awful indeed, and appalling, to behold a 
youth, an Apollo in shape, as fine a military figure as 
ever trod the earth, led l^orth to pay the penalty of his 
perfidy. He walked with a firm step, and composed 



GREENE. 1'83 

countenance, distributing as he passed along, to such of 
his companions as approached him, several articles of 
his clothing, at that period precious legacies. His hat 
he gave to one, his coat to another, his sleeve buttons to 
a third. Every countenance expressed sorrow, but not 
a murmur was heard. Arrived at the fatal spot, he in 
few words, but in the most impressive manner, called 
upon his comrades,* not to sully their glory, nor forego 
the advantages they would speedily realize from the ter- 
mination of the war, and if a thought of desertion was 
harboured in their bosoms, at once to discard it. I have 
no cause (he added) to complain of the court; I certainly 
spoke imprudently, and from the evidence given of my 
guilt, they could not have acted otherwise.' He then 
gave the signal to the platoon selected from his own 
corps; was fired on, and expired. Great pains were taken 
by general Greene, as soon as suspicion was excited, to 
make a full discovery. As soon, however, as sufficient 
evidence was obtained, he waited not to ascertain the 
tixtent of the evil, but by a decided step crushed it ef- 
fectually. The delay of a few hours must have occasion- 
ed the loss of our officers, and probably the death of 
every faithful soldier. O'Neal had been sent to watch 
the motions of the enemy, accompanied by Middleton as 
his second, and captain Rudolph, who had volunteered. 
Passing Bacon and Eagle bridges, they patrolled the 
road for several miles below Dorchester, and seeing no 
appearance of any party without their lines, wheeled his 
troop to return. Rudolph, with two dragoons, was in 
advance. On a sudden, three well mounted black troop- 
ers appeared in front. These were immediately charged. 
The chief fell by the arm of Pope, a soldier of distin- 
guished gallantry. Rudolph dismounted the second, and 
made him a prisoner; the third escaped. The captive 
being asked if the British cavalry were out in force, de- 
clared, * That a single troop under the command of cap- 
lain Dawkins, had gone by the way of Goose Creek 
bridge, a few miles higher, and were to return by the 
way of Dorchester.' Knowing the firmness of Rudolph, 
ihe valour of Middleton, and tried bravery of his troop, 
O'Neal pushed forward in full expectation of a complete 
triumph. Dawkins was soon discovered passing through 



184 GMEENE. 

the village of Dorchester, and bearing down upon him. 
The charge was sounded on both sides, and a fierce con- 
flict began; but before any material advantage could be 
gained, the bugle was heard from another quarter, and 
infantry rose in every direction. A road leading towards 
Goose Creek, afforded the only chance of retreat: this 
was immediately taken, and though exposed to a heavy 
fire, the officers and most of the privates escaped without 
injury. Nine men, and fifteen horses of the troop, fell 
into the hands of the enemy." 

The surrender of lord Cornwallis, whose enterprising 
spirit had been by the British ministry expected to re- 
pair the losses, and wipe away the disgrace which had 
been incurred through the inactivity and indolence of 
other generals, having convinced them of the impracti- 
cability of subjugating America, they discontinued of- 
fensive operations in every quarter. From the beginning 
of the year 1782, it was currently reported that Charles- 
ton was speedily to be evacuated: it was offi^cially an- 
nounced the 7th of August, but it did not take place 
until the 17th of December. 

The happy period at length arrived, when, by the vir- 
tue and bravery of her sons, aided by the bounty of hea- 
ven, America compelled her invaders to recognise her 
independence. — Then her armies quitted the tented 
fields, and retired to cultivate the arts of peace and hap- 
piness. Amongst the rest, general Greene revisited his 
native country, where he proved himself as valuable a 
citizen, as the Carolinas had witnessed him a gallant 
officer. 

We have mentioned Judge Johnson's Life of General 
Greene. This work is in two volumes quarto, and gives 
a particular account of the transactions, and indeed of 
the campaigns, 8cc., of the war in the southern states, 
by William Johnson, Esq. of South Carolina, and one 
of the judges of the supreme court of the United States. 
At the conclusion of the work, he makes the following 
just remarks : 

" We will now dismiss the reader with these remarks. 
To the young and the lowly, the incidents of general 
Greene's life hold out a most valuable moral. They 
show, with certainty^^ that there is no condition which 



tJREENE. i®5 

Tnay not be improved by virtue and perseveranoe ; that 
the acquirement of knowledge leads directly to eminence, 
and that the most persevering labour is not inconsistent 
with the improvement of the mind, when the mind is 
steadily bent upon its own improvemenjt. And let no 
discouraging inferences be drawn from the persecutions 
which he underwent from envy and detraction. They 
will fasten on eminence ; and to quote the general's own 
language, "every one but an idiot will have enemies." 
These are among the trials incident to human life, and 
they will attack those most severely, who raise them- 
selves from obscurity. Men cannot bear mortifying com- 
parisons; and, therefore, envy those most, who have 
risen from among themselves. But, it is a most con- 
soling evidence, that truth will never be abandoned ; that 
after such a lapse of time, we find the fame of this great 
and good man, vindicated by the production of evidence 
which cannot be resisted. The plain inference is, that 
we do our duty, and trust to Providence for the rest. 

" To «//, we will take the liberty to suggest another 
remark. It is related of general Washington, that after 
the defeat of Braddock, an eminent divine declared from 
the pulpit, 'that heaven had preserved that young man 
for some great and wise purposes. ' 

" If we contemplate the early events of general Greene's 
life, we perceive in them a striking aptness of prepara- 
tion for the part he was destined to act in the revolu- 
tionary contest. Subdued, but not broken down under 
parental authority, he learned obedience and discipline, 
and how to enforce it on others; but, above all, self-com- 
mand. Cast on himself for the gratification of every 
wish of his heart, he learned that great lesson of self- 
dependence, which he had so often afterwards to bring 
into exercise. With nerves strung to labour, he was 
prepared for all the fatigues and hardships of war, and 
habits of temperance taught him to bear, and by his ex- 
ample, to teach others to bear, all privations of war. 
Yet, all this preparation was casual, and less than all 
things, intended to fit him for a military life. 

" Nor was his moral and religious education less 
adapted to the part he was to act on the theatre of the 
revolution. The religion of the Quakers, stripped of 
Q 2 



186 HAMILTON. 

those tenets which unfit it for this nether world, is really 
the political religion of the United States. Universal 
benevolence, and unbounded toleration, were their fa- 
vourite doctrines. He still continued a Quaker, as far 
as the religion of the Quakers comported with the de- 
fence of civil liberty, and thus blended the soldier with 
all that stern morality, and simplicity of character, which 
distinguish the sect he belonged to." 

In October, 1785, general Greene sailed to Georgia, 
where he had a considerable estate, not far distant from 
Savannah. Here he passed away his time, occupied in 
his domestic concerns, until the hour of his mortality 
approached. 

Walking out, without his hat, in the afternoon of the 
15th of June, 1786, the day being intensely hot, he was 
suddenly attacked with such a vertigo and prostration 
of strength, as to be unable to return to his house with- 
out assistance. The affection was what is denominated 
a " stroke of the sun." It was succeeded by fever, ac- 
companied with stupor, delirium, and a disordered sto- 
mach. All efforts to subdue it proved fruitless, and it 
carried him off on the 19th of the same month. 

General Greene left behind him a wife and five chil- 
dren. 

On Tuesday, the 12th of August, 1786, the United 
States in congress assembled, came to the following re- 
solution: 

" That a monument be erected to the memory of Na- 
thaniel Greene, Esq. at the seat of the federal govern- 
ment." 






HAMILTON, Alexander, first secretary of the trea- 
sury of the United States, was a native of the island of 
St. Croix, and was born in 1757. His father was the 
younger son of an English family, and his mother was 
an American. At the age of sixteen, he accompanied 
his mother to New York, and entered a student of Co- 
lumbia college, in which he continued about three years. 



HAMILTON. 187 

While a member of this institution, the first buddings, 
of his intellect gave presages of his future eminence. 
The contest with Great Britain called forth the first ta- 
lents on each side, and his juvenile pen asserted the 
claims of the colonies against very respectable writers. 
His papers exhibited such evidence of intellect and wis- 
dom, that they were ascribed to Mr. Jay, and when the 
truth was discovered, America saw with astonishment 
a lad of seventeen in the list of her able advocates. At 
the age of eighteen, he entered the American army as 
an officer of artillery. The first sound of war awakened 
his martial spirit, and as a soldier, he soon conciliated 
the regard of his brethren in arms. It was not long be- 
fore he attracted the notice of Washington, who, in 
1777, selected him as an aid, with the rank of lieutenant- 
colonel. His sound understanding, comprehensive views, 
application and promptitude, soon gained him the entire 
confidence of his patron. In such a school it was im- 
possible but that his genius should be nourished. By 
intercourse with Washington, by surveying his plans, 
observing his consummate prudence, and by a minute 
inspection of the springs of national operations, he be- 
came fitted for command. Throughout the campaign, 
which terminated in the capture of Cornwallis, colonel 
Hamilton commanded a battalion of light infantry. At 
the siege of York in 1781, when the second parallel was 
opened, two redoubts which flanked it, and were advanc- 
ed 300 yards in front of the British works, very much 
annoyed the men in the trenches. It v/as resolved to 
possess them, and to prevent jealousies, the attack of the 
one was committed to the Americans, and of the other, 
to the French. The detachment of the Americans was 
commanded by the marquis de la Fayette, and colonel 
Hamilton, at his own earnest request, led the advanced 
corps, consisting of two battalions. Towards the close 
of the day, on the 14th of October, the troops rushed to 
the charge without firing a single gun. The works were 
assaulted with irresistible impetuosity, and carried with 
but little loss. Eight of the enemy fell in the action ; 
but notwithstanding the irritation lately produced by the 
infamous slaughter in fort Grisvvold, not a man was kill- 
ed who ceased to resist. 



188 HAMILTOW. 

• Soon after the capture of Cornwallis, Hamilton sheath- 
ed his sword, and being encumbered with a family, and 
destitute of funds, at the age of twenty-five applied to 
the study of the law. In this profession he soon rose to 
distinction. But his private pursuits could not detach 
him from regard to the public welfare. The violence 
which was meditated against the property and persons 
of all who remained in the city during the war, called 
forth his generous exertions, and, by the aid of governor 
Clinton, the faithless and revengeful scheme was defeat- 
ed. In a few years, a more important affair demanded his 
talents. After witnessing the debility of the confedera- 
tion, he was fully impressed with the necessity of an ef- 
ficient general government, and he was appointed in 
1787, a member of the federal convention of New York. 
He assisted in forming the constitution of our country. 
It did not indeed completely meet his wishes. He was 
afraid that it did not contain sufficient means of strength 
for its own preservation, and that, in consequence, we 
should share the fate of many other republics, and pass 
through anarchy to despotism. He was in favour of a 
more permanent executive and senate. He wished for 
a strong government, which would not be shaken by the 
conflict of different interests through an extensive terri- 
tory, and which should be adequate to all the forms of 
national exigency. 

By his pen in the papers signed Publius, and by his 
voice in the convention of New York, he contributed 
much to its adoption. When the government was orga- 
nized in 1789, Washington placed him at the head of 
the treasury. In the new demands which were now made 
upon his talents, the resources of his mind did not fail 
him. In his reports, he proposed plans for funding the 
debt of the union, and for assuming the debts of the re- 
spective states, for establishing a bank and mint, and for 
procuring a revenue. He wished to redeem the reputa^ 
tion of his country by satisfying her creditors, and to 
combine with the government such a monied interest, 
as might facilitate its operations. 

He remained but a short time afterwards in office. 
As his property had been wasted in the public service, 
the care of a rising family made it his duty to retire, that 



HAMILTON. 1 89 

by renewed exertions in his profession, he might provide 
for their support. He accordingly resigned his office on 
the last of January, 1795. 

When the provisional army was raised in 1798, Wash- 
ington qualified his acceptance of the command of it, 
with the condition that Hamilton should be his associ- 
ate, and second in command. This arrangement was 
accordingly made. 

Invested with the rank of inspector-general, Hamilton 
repaired immediately to his post, and commenced the 
organization and discipline of his army. These he car- 
ried in a short time to high perfection, the materials of 
his command being excellent in quality. His hours of 
leisure he devoted, with his usual industry, to the study 
of chemistry, mathematics, and the art of war. In the 
two latter his attainments became great. To render him 
conspicuous among the ablest captains of the world, 
nothing was now wanting but experience in the field. 

After the adjustment of our dispute with the French 
republic, and the discharge of the army, he returned 
again to his profession in the city of New York. 

In June, 1804, colonel Burr, vice-president of the 
United States, addressed a letter to general Hamilton, 
requiring his acknowledgment or denial of the use of 
any expression derogatory to the honour of the former. 
This demand was deemed inadmissible, and a duel was 
the consequence. After the close of the circuit court, 
the parties met at Hoboken, on the morning of Wed- 
nesday, July the 11th, and Hamilton fell on the same 
spot, where his son a few years before had fallen, in obe- 
dience to the same principle of honour, and in the same 
violation of the laws of God and of man. He was car- 
ried into the city, and being desirous of receiving the 
sacrament of the Lord's supper, he immediately sent for 
the Rev. Dr. Mason. As the principles of his church 
prohibited him from administering the ordinance in pri- 
vate, this minister of the gospel informed general Hamil- 
ton, that the sacrament was an exhibition and pledge of 
the mercies, which the son of God has purchased, and 
that the absence of the sign did not exclude from the 
mercies signified, which were accessible to him by faith 
in their gracious Author. He replied, "I am aware of 



190 HAMILTON. 

that. It is only as a sign that I wanted it. '* In the con- 
versation which ensued, he disavowed all intention of 
taking the life of colonel Burr, and declared his abhor- 
rence of the whole transaction. When the sin of which 
he had been guilty, was intimated to him, he assented 
with strong emotion; and when the infinite merit of the 
Redeemer, as the propitiation for sin, the sole ground 
of our acceptance with God, was suggested, he said with 
emphasis, '* I have a tender reliance on the mercy of the 
Almighty, through the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ." 
The reverend bishop Moore was afterwards sent for, and 
after making suitable inquiries of the penitence and faith 
of general Hamilton, and receiving his assurance that 
he would never again, if restored to health, be engaged 
in a similar transaction, but would employ all his influ- 
ence in society to discountenance the barbarous custom, 
administered to him the communion. After this his 
mind was composed. He expired about two o'clock on 
Thursday, July 12, 1804, aged about 47 years. 

General Hamilton possessed very uncommon powers 
of mind. To whatever subject he directed his attention, 
he was able to grasp it, and in whatever he engaged, in 
that he excelled. So stupendous were his talents, and 
so patient was his industry, that no investigation pre- 
sented difficulties which he could not conquer. In the 
class of men of intellect, he held the first rank. His elo- 
quence was of the most interesting kind, and when new 
exertions were required, he rose in new strength, and 
touching at his pleasure every string of pity or of terror, 
of indignation or grief, he bent the passions of others to 
his purpose. At the bar he gained the first eminence. 

The versatility of his powers was as wonderful as their 
strength. To the transaction of all matters that were 
ever submitted to him, he showed himself competent; 
on every point of difficulty and moment, he was qualified 
to become great. What others learnt by experience, he 
saw by intuition; what they achieved by persevering la- 
bour, he could accomplish by a single exertion. Hence, 
the diversified eminence of his attainments, and the sur- 
prising rapidity with which he rendeyed himself master, 
not only of new and intricate points, but even of entire 
branches of science. 



HAMILTON. 191 

Within the sphere of our own knowledge, or in the 
records of society, it is usual to find individuals who are 
highly distinguished in particular walks: in the forum, 
the senate, the cabinet, or the field; but a single charac- 
ter pre-eminent in them all, constitutes a prodigy of hu- 
man greatness. Yet such a character was the personage 
we are considering. He combined within himself quali- 
ties that would have communicated lustre to many. At 
the bar, his ability and eloquence were at once the de- 
light and astonishment of his country; as a statesman, 
his powers were transcendent and his resources inex- 
haustible; as a financier, he was acknowledged to be 
without a rival; in his talents for war, he was believed 
to be inferior to Washington alone. To these we may 
add, that in his qualifications as a writer, he was emi- 
nently great. Endowments so brilliant, with attainments 
so wide, multifarious and lofty, have but rarely fallen to 
the portion of a mortal. 

Yet with these, he had none of the eccentricities, irre- 
gularities, or vices, that oftentimes follow in the train of 
greatness. His mind and his habits were in a high de- 
gree orderly, temperate, and methodical. To his pow- 
ers alone, stupendous as they were, he never committed 
1 the performance of his duty, on any occasion of interest 
and importance. Preparatory to acting, he bestowed 
on his subject all the attention that would have been 
requisite in a man of common abilities. He studied it 
I patiently till he thoroughly comprehended it. Hence, 
i even in the minutest details, he was never found deficient 
when he was expected to be prepared. To his moral 
habits, therefore, no less than to his physical powers, he 
owed it, in part, that he was consummately great. 

With all his pre-eminence of talents, and amiable as 

he was in private life, general Hamilton is yet a melan- 

1 choly proof of the influence, which intercourse with a 

J! depraved world has in perverting the judgment. In prin- 

j ciple he was opposed to duelling; his conscience was 

not hardened, and he was not indifferent to the happiness 

of his wife and children; but no consideration was strong 

enough to prevent him from exposing his life in single 

combat His own views of usefulness were followed in 

contrariety to the injunctions of his Maker and Judge. 



192 HANCOCK. 

He had been for some time convinced of the truth of 
Christianity, and it was his intention, if his life had been 
spared, to have written a work upon its evidences. 

General Hamilton possessed many friends, and he was 
endeared to them, for he was gentle, tender, and benevo- 
lent. While he was great in the eyes of the world, fa- 
miliarity with him only increased the regard in which 
he was held. In his person he was small, and short in 
stature. He married a daughter of general Schuyler, 
and left an afflicted widow and a number of children to 
mourn his loss. 

"Such was Hamilton; the soldier of the revolution, 
the confidant of Washington, the founder of the Ameri- 
can system of finance, the enlightened statesman, the 
great counsellor, the eloquent orator, and the man of 
probity, tried and spotless. He retired poor from an 
office, which, without peculation or any act that would 
have amounted to a breach of trust, might have rendered 
him as distinguished for wealth, as he was for the higher 
riches of his mind. His faults, for being human, he had 
faults, are lost amidst his virtues, excused, or forgotten." 






HANCOCK, John, a distinguished patriot and friend 
of his country, was born in the year 1737, in the pro- 
vince of Massachusetts. The habitation of his father, 
which is represented as the precise place of his nativity, 
was situated near the village of Quincy, and by the or- 
dinary transitions of property in America, is now annex- 
ed to the patrimony of John Adams, former president 
of the United States, In this neighbourhood were born 
and died, for many generations, the ancestors of the il- 
lustrious Samuel Adams. He graduated at Harvard 
college in 1754. On the death of his uncle, Thomas 
Hancock, Esq., he received a very considerable fortune, 
and soon became an eminent merchant. He was, for 
several years, selectman of the town: and in 1766, he 
was chosen a member of the house of representatives 
for Boston. He there blazed a whig of the first n^agni- 



HANCOCK. 193 

tude. Otis, Gushing, and Samuel Adams, were the other 
three, who represented the capital, men of name in the 
revolution of their country. Being fond of public notice, 
he was flattered by the approbation of the people, with 
their marks of confidence, and the distinction he had in 
the general court. The political sagacity of Adams, the 
public spirit and patriotic zeal of Hancock, gave a lustre 
to the Boston seat. Of these two popular leaders, the 
manners and appearance were in direct opposition, not- 
withstanding the conformity of their political principles, 
and their equal devotion to the liberties and independence 
of their country; and this dissimilarity tended, no doubt, 
to aggravate the passions and animosities of their ad- 
herents. Mr. Adams was poor, and in his dress and 
manners, simple and unadorned. Hancock, on the other 
hand, was numbered with the richest individuals of his 
country. His equipage was splendid and magnificent, 
and such as at present is unknown in America. His 
apparel was sumptuously embroidered with gold, and 
silver, and lace, and all the other decorations fashionable 
amongst men of fortune of that day; he rode, especially 
upon public occasions, with six beautiful bays, and with 
servants in livery. He was graceful and prepossessing 
in his manners, and very passionately addicted to what 
are called the elegant pleasures of life, to dancing, music, 
concerts, routs, assemblies, card parties, rich wines, so- 
cial dinners and festivities; all which the stern repub- 
lican virtues of Mr. Adams regarded with indifference, 
if not with contempt. 

On the evening of the 5th of March, 1770, a small 
party of the British soldiers paraded, and being assailed 
by a tumultuary assemblage of the people, with balls of 
snow and other weapons, fired upon them by the order 
of their officer, to disperse them. Upon which occasion 
several of the crowd were wounded, and a few killed. 
This affray is usually termed "the massacre of Boston.** 

It was in commemoration of this event, Mr. Hancock 
delivered an oration, in 1774, from which we extract the 
following: 

*' I have always, from my earliest youth, rejoiced in 
the felicity of my fellow-men, and have ever considered 
it as the indispensable duty of every member of society, 



194 HAKOOCK. 

to promote, as far as in him lies, the prosperity of cveiy 
individual, but more especially of the community to 
which he belongs; and also, as a faithful subject of the 
state, to use his utmost endeavours to detect, and having 
detected, strenuously to oppose every traitorous plot 
which its enemies may devise for its destruction. Secu- 
rity to the persons and properties of the governed, is so 
obviously the design and end of civil government, that 
to attempt a logical proof of it, would be like burning 
tapers at noonday, to assist the sun in enlightening the 
world; and it cannot be virtuous or honourable, to at- 
tempt to support a government, of which this is not the 
great and principal basis; and it is to the last degree 
vicious and infamous, to attempt to support a govern- 
ment, which manifestly tends to render the persons and 
properties of the governed insecure. Some boast of 
being friends to government ; I am a friend to righteous 
government, to a government founded upon the princi- 
ples of reason and justice ; but I glory in publicly avow- 
ing my eternal enmity to tyranny. Is the present system 
which the British administration have adopted for the 
government of the colonies, a righteous government? or 
is it tyranny ? Here suffer me to ask (and would to hea- 
ven there could be an answer) what tenderness, what 
regard, respect, or consideration, has Great Britain 
shown, in their late transactions, for the security of 
the persons or properties of the inhabitants of the co- 
lonies ? or rather, what have they omitted doing to 
destroy that security ? They have declared that they 
have ever had, and of right ought ever to have, full 
power to make laws of sufficient validity, to bind the 
colonies in all cases whatever: they have exercised this 
pretended right by imposing a tax upon us without our 
consent; and lest we should show some reluctance at 
parting with our property, her fleets and armies are sent 
to enforce their mad pretensions. The town of Boston, 
ever faithful to the Biitish crown, has been invested by 
a British fleet; the troops of George the III. have cross- 
ed the wide Atlantic, not to engage an enemy, but to 
assist a band of traitors in trampling on the rights and 
liberties of his most loyal subjects in America; those 
rights and liberties, which, as a father, he ought ever to 



HANOOCBL. 195 

egard, and as a king, he is bound, in honour, to defend 
from violations, even at the risk of his own life. 

" But I forbear, and come reluctantly to the transac- 
tions of that dismal night, when in such quick succes- 
sion we felt the extremes of grief, astonishment, and 
rage ; when heaven, in anger, for a dreadful moment, 
suffered hell to take the reins; when Satan, with his 
chosen band, opened the sluices of New England's blood, 
and sacrilegiously polluted our land with the dead bodies 
of her guiltless sons. Let this sad tale of death never 
be told without a tear, let not the heaving bosom cease 
to burn with manly indignation at the barbarous story, 
through the long tracts of future time : let every parent 
tell the shameful story to his listening children till tears 
of pity glisten in their eyes, and boiling passions shake 
their tender frames ; and whilst the anniversary of that 
ill-fated night is kept a jubilee in the grim court of pan- 
daemonium, let all America join in one common prayer 
to heaven, that the inhuman unprovoked murders of the 
fifai uf Ivlarcn, irro, planned by Hillsborough, and a 
knot of treacherous knaves in Boston, and executed by 
the cruel hand of Preston and his sanguinary coadjutors, 
may ever stand on history without a parallel. But what, 
my countrymen, withheld the ready arm of vengeance 
from executing instant justice on the vile assassins? 
Perhaps you feared promiscuous carnage might ensue, 
and that the innocent might share the fate of those who 
had performed the infernal deed. But were not all 
guilty ? were you not too tender of the lives of those who 
came to fix a yoke on your necks? but I must not too 
severely blame a fault, which great souls only can com- 
mit. May that magnificence of spirit which scorns the 
low pursuits of malice, may that generous compassion 
which often preserves from ruin, even a guilty villain, 
for ever actuate the noble bosoms of Americans ! But let 
not the miscreant host vainly imagine that we feared 
their arms. No ; them we despised ; we dread nothing 
but slavery. Death is the creature of a poltroon's brains; 
'tis immortality to sacrifice ourselves for the salvation 
of our country. We fear not death. That gloomy night, 
the pale faced moon, and the affrighted stars that hur- 
ried through the sky, can witness that we fear not death. 



196 HANCOCK. 

Our hearts, which, at the recollection, glow with rage 
that four revolving years have scarcely taught us to re- 
strain, can witness that we fear not death ; and happy it 
is for those who dared to insult us, that their naked 
bones are not now piled up an everlasting monument of 
Massachusetts' bravery. But they retired, they fled, and 
in that flight they found their only safety. We then ex- 
pected that the hand of public justice would soon inflict 
that punishment upon the murderers, which, by the 
laws of God and man, they had incurred. 

" Patriotism is ever united with humanity and com- 
passion. This noble affection, which impels us to sacri- 
fice every thing dear, even life itself, to our country, 
involves in it a common sympathy and tenderness for 
every citizen, and must ever have a particular feeling for 
one who sufl*ers in a public cause. Thoroughly persuad- 
ed of this, I need not add a word to engage your com- 
passion and bounty towards a fellow-citizen, who, with 
long pi oti ttcteH an.Q^uish, falls a victim to the relentless 
rage of our common enemies. 

" Ye dark designing knaves, ye murderers, parricides I 
how dare you tread upon the earth, which has drank in 
the blood of slaughtered innocents, shed by your wicked 
hands ? how dare you breathe that air which wafted to 
the ear of heaven, the groans of those who fell a sacri- 
fice to your accursed ambition? but if the labouring earth 
doth not expand her jaws, if the air you breathe is not 
commissioned to be the minister of death, yet, hear it, 
and tremble ! the eye of heaven penetrates the darkest 
chambers of the soul, traces the leading clue through all 
the labyrinths which your industrious folly has devised; 
and you, hov/ever you may have screened yourselves 
from human eyes, must be arraigned, must lift your 
hands, red with the blood of those whose death you have 
procured, at the tremendous bar of God. 

"But I gladly quit the gloomy theme of death, and 
leave you to improve the thought of that important day, 
when our naked souls must stand before that being, from 
whom nothing can be hid. I would not dwell too long 
upon the horrid effects which have already followed 
from quartering regular troops in this town; let our 



HANCOCK. 197 

misfortunes teach posterity to guard against such evils 
for the future. 

"Let us be ready to take the field whenever danger 
calls ; let us be united, and strengthen the hands of each 
other, by promoting a general union among us. Much 
has been done by the committees of correspondence, for 
the houses of assembly, in this and our sister colonies, 
for uniting the inhabitants of the whole continent, for 
the security of their common interest. May success 
ever attend their generous endeavours. But permit me 
here to suggest a general congress of deputies from the 
several houses of assembly on the continent, as the most 
effectual method of establishing such a union as the pre- 
sent posture of our affairs require. At such a congress 
a firm foundation may be laid for the security of our 
rights and liberties; a system may be formed for our 
common safety, by a strict adherence to which, v/e shall 
be able to frustrate any attempts to overthrow our con- 
stitution, restore peace and harmony to America, and 
secure honour and wealth to Great Britain, even against 
the inclinations of her' ministers, whose duty it is to 
study her welfare; and we shall also free ourselves from 
those unmannerly pillagers who impudently tell us, that 
they are licensed by an act of the British parliament, to 
thrust their dirty hands into the pockets of every Ame- 
rican. But, I trust, the happy time will come, when, 
with the besom of destruction, those noxious vermin 
will be swept for ever from the streets of Boston. 

" Surely you never will tamely suffer this country to be 
a den of thieves. Remember, my friends, from whom 
you sprang. Let not a meanness of spirit, unknown to 
those whom you boast of as your fathers, excite a thought 
to the dishonour of your mothers. I conjure you by all 
that is dear, by all that is honourable, by all that is sa- 
cred, not only that ye pray, but that you act; that, if ne- 
cessary, ye fight, and even die, for the prosperity of our 
Jerusalem. Break in sunder, with noble disdain, the 
bonds with which the Philistines have bound you. Suffer 
not yourselves to be betrayed by the soft arts of luxury 
and effeminacy, into the pit digged for your destruction. 
Despise the glare of wealth. That people who pay 
greater respect to a wealthy villain, than to an honest, 
a 3 



198 hIncock. 

upright man in poverty, almost deserve to be enslaved; 
they plainly show, that wealth, however it may be ac- 
quired, is, in their esteem, to be preferred to virtue. 

" But I thank God, that America abounds in men who 
are superior to all temptation, whom nothing can divert 
from a steady pursuit of the interest of their country, 
who are at once its ornament and safeguard. And 
sure I am, I should not incur your displeasure, if I paid 
a respect so justly due to their much honoured charac- 
ters in this place; but, when I name an Adams, such a 
numerous host of fellow patriots rush upon my mind, 
that I fear it would take up too much of your time should 
I attempt to call over the illustrious roll: but your grate- 
ful hearts will point you to the men ; and their revered 
names, in all succeeding times, shall grace the annals of 
America. From them, let us, my friends, take exam- 
ple; from them, let us catch the divine enthusiasm; and 
feel, each for himsolf, the godlike pleasure of diffusing 
happiness on all around us, of delivering the oppressed 
from the iron grasp of tyranny, of changing the hoarse 
complaints and bitter moans of wretched slaves, into 
those cheerful songs, which freedom and contentment 
must inspire. There is a heart-felt satisfaction in reflect- 
ing on our exertions for the public weal, which all the 
sufferings an enraged tyrant can inflict, will never take 
away, which the ingratitude and reproaches of those 
whom ^ve have saved from ruin, cannot rob us of. The 
virtuous assertor of the rights of mankind, merits a re- 
ward, which even a want of success in his endeavours 
to save his country, the heaviest misfortune which can 
befall a genuine patriot, cannot entirely prevent him from 
receiving. 

"I have the most animating confidence, that the pre- 
sent -noble struggle for liberty will terminate gloriously 
for America. And let us play the man for our God, and 
for the cities of our God; while we are using the means 
in our power, let us humbly comniit our righteous cause 
to the great Lord of the universe, who loveth righteous- 
ness, and hateth iniquity. And having secured the ap- 
probation of our hearts, by a faithful and unwearied 
discharge of our duty to our country, let us joyfully leave 
our concerns in the hands of Him who raiseth up and 



HANCOCK. 199 

putteth down the empires and kingdoms of the world as 
He pleases, and with cheerful submission to his sove- 
reign will, devoutly say, 

" Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall 
fruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail^ and 
the field shall yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off from 
the fold, and there $hall be no herd in the stalls; yet we will 
rejoice in the Lord, we will Joy in the God of our salvation. '* 

The battle of Lexington now announced the com- 
mencement of the revolutionary war. To gain possession 
of the persons of Hancock "and Adams, who lodged to- 
gether in that village, was one of the motives, it is said, 
of the expedition which led to that memorable conflict. 
The design, though covered with great secrecy, was an- 
ticipated, and the victims escaped, upon the entrance of 
their habitation by the British troops. Thus, by the 
felicitous intervention of a moment, were rescued from 
a virulent enemy, and perhaps from the executioner, 
those who were to contribute, by their future virtues, to 
the revolution of empires, and to be handed down to 
posterity as the benefactors of mankind. 

The defeat of the English in this battle was followed 
by the governor's proclamation, declaring the province 
in a state of rebellion; offering, at the same time, pardon 
to all whose penitence should recommend them to this 
act of grace, with the exception of those notorious of- 
fenders, Samuel Adams and John Hancock. These, by 
the enormity of their guilt, which was declared too fla- 
gitious for impunity, were reserved to propitiate the 
ferocity of the royal vengeance. But this signal and 
glorious denunciation, less the effect of good policy, than 
of passion, advanced these popular chiefs upon the lists 
of fame; they were every where hailed with increased 
acclamations and applauses, and not only by their illus- 
trious merits, but by the dangers to which they were ex- 
posed, were endeared to the affections of their country- 
men. 

Hancock, in October, 1774, was unanimously elected 
president of the provincial congress of Massachusetts. 
In 1775, he attained the meridian of his political dis- 
tinction, and the highest honour that the confidence or 
the esteem of his compatriots could bestow upon him ; 



200 HAHOOCK. 

being made president of the continental congress. By 
his long experience in business, as moderator of the 
town meetings, president and speaker of the provincial 
assemblies and conventions, during times of great tur- 
bulence and commotion, in his native state, he was 
eminently qualified, as well as by his natural dignity of 
manners, to preside in this great coutfcil of the nation. 

That there were in this assembly personages of a su- 
perior age to that of Mr. Hancock, and men, at the same 
time, of pre-eminent virtues and talents, will not be de- 
nied; who required at least some indications of defe- 
rence from a generous mind, in reverence of their merits. 
It was, besides, an occasion upon which calmness and 
composure had been little commendable, and upon 
which indifference, or a haughty and supercilious confi- 
dence, had been criminal in him who was crowned with 
the principal honours. For rarely in the vicissitudes of 
nations, has it happened that interests more sacred have 
been confided to the infirmity of human wisdom or in- 
tegrity; and that a spectacle more imposing has been 
exhibited to human observation. 

In 1776, July 4th, his name appears as president of 
the congress which declared the colonies independent of 
the crown of Great Britain. The name of the president 
alone was published with the declaration, though every 
member signed it. It was a mark of respect due to Mas- 
sachusetts, to have one of their members in the chair, 
which had been filled by a member from South Carolina 
and Virginia. Mr. Hancock had those talents which 
were calculated to make him appear to more advantage 
as chairman, than in the debates of a public body. He 
excelled as moderator of the Boston town-meetings, as 
president of the provincial congress, and state conven- 
tion, and, as head of the great council of our nation, he 
was much respected. He discovered a fine address, 
great impartiality, sufficient spirit to command attention, 
and preserve order. His voice and manner were much 
in his favour, and his experience in public business gave 
him ease and dignity. 

In 1779, Mr. Hancock resigned his place in congress. 
He was chosen a member of the convention that formed 
the constitution of Massachusetts, 



HANCOCK. 201 

From 1780 to 1785, Mr. Hancock was annually chosen 
governor of the commonwealth of Massachusetts. He 
declined being; a candidate for the office the ensuing year. 

He died suddenly on the 8th of October, 1793, in the 
S5th year of his age. 

In stature he was above the middle size, of excellent 
proportion of limbs, of extreme benignity of counte- 
nance; possessing a flexible and harmonious voice, a 
manly and dignified aspect. By the improvement of 
these natural qualities from observation and extensive 
intercourse with the world, he had acquired a pleasing 
elocution, with the most graceful and conciliating man- 
ners; acquisitions which are perhaps less fitted to the 
austere virtues of a republic, than to the glitter and mag- 
nificence of monarchy; but were used by Mr. Hancock 
in arts so liberal and beneficial to his country, that the 
most unsocial and supercilious advocate of sobriety, will 
pardon him the possession of them. 

Of his talents, it is a sufficient evidence, that, in th^ 
various stations to which his fortune had elevated him 
in the republic, he acquitted himself with an honourable 
distinction and capacity. His communications to the 
general assembly, and his correspondence as president 
of congress, are titles of no ordinary commendation. Of 
extensive erudition he has given no positive testimony. 
His knowledge was practical and familiar. He neither 
penetrated the intricacies of profound research, nor did 
he mount inaccessible elevations. 

Of the other statesmen and warriors of the revolution, 
and especially of the members of the continental con- 
gress, it may be observed, that in wisdom and intelli- 
gence, as well as integrity and magnanimity, they suffer 
no degradation in being compared with the most illus- 
trious patriots of ancient or modern times. 

Mr. Hancock was promoted to every office which a 
man fond of public life could expect or desire. Such an 
elevation to prosperous circumstances would make some 
men giddy, and cause others to despise their neighbour 
poorer than themselves. 

_ " He possessed many valuable qualifications for public 
life, a knowledge of business, and facility in despatching 
it, and a ready insight into the characters of men. As 



202 HAWLEY. 

an orator, he was not remarkable ; he seldom made an 
elaborate speech, and the only discourse of his in print 
is the oration on the 5th of March, 1774. But as 
the president, moderator, or speaker, of an assembly, 
whether it was a town-meeting, or house of representa- 
tives, he was not surpassed by any person of his time. 
His voice was powerful, his acquaintance with parlia- 
mentary forms accurate, and his apprehension of ques- 
tions, quick; he was attentive, impartial, and dignified ;. 
and in these situations, inspired respect and confidence 
wherever he presided. ** 



HAWLEY, Joseph, distinguished as a statesman and 
patriot, was born in Northampton, Massachusetts, in 
1724, and was graduated in Yale college in 1742. Soon 
after finishing his coUeglal education, he engaged in the 
study and the practice of the law, in his native town. In 
this science he became a great proficient, and was one 
of the most distinguished counsellors in the province. 
Among his other studies, he attained to such an emi- 
nence of knowledge in political history, and the princi- 
ples of free government, that, during the disputes between 
Great Britain and the colonies, he was regarded as one 
of the ablest advocates of American liberty. His inte- 
grity, both in public and in private life, was inflexible, 
and was not even questioned by his political opponents. 
He was repeatedly elected a member of the council, but 
refused in every instance to accept the office, as he pre- 
ferred a seat in the house of representatives, where his 
character for disinterested patriotism, and his bold and 
manly eloquence, gave him an ascendency, which has 
seldom been equalled. 

In 1776, he, together with Samuel Adams and John 
Hancock, were elected members of the legislature. He 
acquired great influence in the public councils. The 
ascendency which was allotted to him by the deference 
of others, was a fortunate circumstance for his country. 
Never was influence exercised with more intelligent, 



HAWLET- 205 

^^cvoted, and inflexible patriotism. He made up his mind 
earlier than most men, that the struggle against oppres- 
sion would lead to war, and that our rights at last must 
be secured by our arms. As the crisis approached, when 
some persons urged upon him the danger of a contest, 
so apparently unequal, his answer was, "We must put 
to sea. Providence will bring us into port." 

From a correspondence between Mr. John Adams, 
late president of the United States, and William Wirt, 
Esq. of Virginia, the biographer of Patrick Henry, it 
would seem that the declaration, " JVe mustjight,'* which 
Mr. Wirt had claimed for Mr. Henry, was derived from 
a letter, which he himself had shown to Mr. Henry, 
written by major Hawley, in 1774. Mr. Adams, in a 
letter to Mr. Wirt, dated Quincy, January 23, 1818, says, 
" When congress had finished their business, as they 
thought, in the autumn of 1774, 1 had, with Mr. Henry, 
before we took leave of each other, some familiar con- 
versation, in which I expressed a full conviction that our 
resolves, declaration of rights, enumeration of wrongs, 
petitions, remonstrances and addresses, associations, and 
non-importation agreements, however they might be ex- 
pected in America, and however necessary to cement the 
union of the colonies, would be but waste water in Eng- 
land. Mr. Henry said they might make some impression 
among the people of England, but agreed with me that 
they would be totally lost upon the government. I had 
just received a short and hasty letter, written to me by 
major Joseph Hawley, of Northampton, containing a 
few ' broken hints,' as he called them, of what he thought 
was proper to be done, and concluding with these words, 
'after all, we must fight.' This letter I read to Mr. 
Henry, who listened with great attention, and as soon as 
I had pronounced the words, ' after all, we must fight,' 
he raised his head, and, with an energy and vehemence 

that I never can forget, broke out with ^ By , lam of 

that man's mind.' I put the letter into his hand, and 
when he had read it, he returned it to me, with an equal- 
ly solemn asseveration, that he agreed entii'ely in opinion 
with the writer. I considered this as a sacred oath, upon 
a very great occasion, and could have sworn it as reli- 
giously as he did, and by no means inconsistent with 



204 HAWLEY. 

what you say, in some part of your book, that he never 
took the Sacred Name in vain.'* 

" As I knew the sentiments with which Mr. Henry left 
congress in the autumn of 1774, and knew the chapter 
and verse from which he had borrowed the sublime ex- 
pression, * We must fight,' I was not at all surprised at 
your history, in the 122nd page, in the note, and in some 
of the preceding and following pages. Mr. Henry only 
pursued in March, 1775, the views and vows of Novem- 
ber, 1774. 

" The other delegates from Virginia, returned to their 
state in full confidence that all our grievances would be 
redressed. The last words that Mr. Richard Henry Lee 
said to me when we parted, were, ^we shall infallibly 
carry all our points. You will be completely relieved; all the 
offensive acts will be repealed; the army and fleet will be 
recalled, and Britain will give up her foolish project.' 

" Washington only was in doubt. He never spoke in 
public. In private, he joined with those who advocated 
a non-exportation, as well as a non-importation agree- 
ment. With both he thought we should prevail; with- 
out either, he thought it doubtful. Henry was clear in 
one opinion, Richard Henry Lee in an opposite opinion, 
and Washington doubted between the two. Henry, how- 
ever, appeared in the end to be exactly in the right." 

In 1819, president Adams communicated the " broken 
hints," alluded to in the foregoing, to H. Niles, Esq., 
which are inserted at length in Mr. Niles's valuable 
work, entitled " Principles and Acts of the Revolution 
in America," a work which ought to be in the library 
of every man who venerates the principles and the men 
of '76. We here insert an extract from the " broken 
hints." 

** We must Jight^ if we can't otherwise rid ourselves 
of British taxation, all revenues, and the constitution or 
form of government enacted for us by the British parlia- 
ment. It is evil against right; utterly intolerable to every 
man who has any idea or feeling of right or liberty. 

** It is easy to demonstrate that the regulation act will 
soon annihilate every thing of value in the charter, in- 
troduce perfect despotism, and render the house of re- 
presentatives a mere form, and ministerial engine. 



HAWLEY. 205 

" It is now or never, that we must assert our liberty. 
Twenty years will make the number of tories on this 
continent equal to the number of whigs. They who 
shall be born, will not have any idea of a free govern- 
ment. 

"It will necessarily be a question, whether the new 
government of this province shall be suffered to take 
place at all, or whether it shall be immediately withstood 
and resisted ? 

" A most important question this ; I humbly conceive 
it not best forcibly or wholly to resist it immediately. 

" There is not heat enough yet for battle. Constant, 
and a sort of negative resistance of government, will in- 
crease the heat, and blow the fire. There is not military 
skill enough. That is improving, and must be encour- 
aged and improved, but will daily increase. 

" Fight we must, finally, unless Britain retreats. 

" But it is of infinite consequence that victory be the 
end and issue of hostilities. If we get to fighting before 
necessary dispositions are made for it, we shall be con- 
quered, and all will be lost for ever. 

''Our salvation depends upon an established persever- 
ing union of the colonies. 

" The tools of administration are using every device 
and effort to destroy that union, and they will certainly 
continue so to do. 

"Thereupon, all possible devices and endeavours must 
be used to establish, improve, brighten, and maintain 
such union. 

" Every grievance of any one colony must be held and 
considered by the whole, as a grievance to the whole, 
and must operate on the whole, as a grievance to the 
whole. This will be a difficult matter to effect, but it 
must be done. 

"Quere, therefore: whether it is not absolutely neces- 
sary that some plan be settled for a continuation of con- 
gresses ? — But here we must be aware that congresses 
will soon be declared and enacted by parliament, to be 
high treason. 

'•Is the India company to be compensated or not? 

" If to be compensated, is each colony to pay the party 



205 HAWLEY. 

cular damage she has done, or is an average to be made 
on the continent? 

" The destruction of the tea was not unjust: therefore, 
to what good purpose is the tea to be paid for, unless we 
are assured, that by so doing, our rights will be restored, 
and peace obtained ? 

"What future measures is the continent to preserve 
with regard to imported dutied tea, whether it comes 
as East India property or otherwise, under the pretence 
and lie that the tea is imported from Holland, and the 
goods imported before a certain given day? Dutied tea 
will be imported and consumed, goods continue to be 
imported, your non-importation agreement eluded, ren- 
dered contemptible and ridiculous, unless all teas used, 
and all goods, are taken into some public custody which 
will be inviolably faithful." 

Major Hawley did not appear in the legislature after 
the year 1776, but he never relaxed his zeal in the service 
of his country, and was ready to contribute his efforts 
to the public service. By his private exertions, he ren- 
dered assistance at some very critical and discouraging 
periods. At the season when the prospects of the Ame- 
rican army were the most gloomy, when the Jerseys 
y/e.vt overrun, and the feelings of many were on the verge 
of despondency, he exerted himself with great activity 
and success, to rally the spirits of his fellow-citizens. 
At this time, when apathy appeared stealing upon the 
country, and the people were reluctant to march on a 
seemingly desperate enterprise, he addressed a body of 
militia, to urge them to volunteer as recruits. His manly 
eloquence, his powerful appeals to their pride, their pa- 
triotism, their duty, to every thing which they held dear 
and sacred, awakened their dormant feelings, and excited 
them to enthusiasm. 

Major Hawley was a sincerely religious and pious 
man, but here, as in politics, he loathed all tyranny and 
fanatical usurpation. In the latter part of 1776, he was 
afflicted with hypochondriacal disorders, to which he 
had been frequently subject in former periods of his life; 
and after this declined public business. He died, March 
10, 1788, aged sixty-four years. 
Major Hawley was a patriot without personal animo- 



HENRY. 207 

sities, an orator without vanity, a lawyer without chi- 
canery, and a gentleman without ostentation ; a statesman 
without duplicity, and a christian without bigotry. As 
a man of commanding talents, his firm renunciation and 
self-denial of all ambitious views, would have secured 
him that respect which such strength of mind inevitably 
inspires ; while his voluntary and zealous devotion to 
the service of his countrymen, established him in their 
affection. His uprightness and plainness, united to his 
affability and disinterestedness, gave most extensive 
influence to his opinions, and in a period of doubt, di- 
visions and danger, men sought relief from their per- 
plexities in his authority, and suffered their course to be 
guided by him, when they distrusted their own judg- 
ments, or the counsels of others. He, in fine, formed 
one of those manly, public spirited, and generous citi- 
zens, ready to share peril and decline reward, who illus- 
trate the idea of a commonwealth, and who, through 
the obstructions of human passions and infirmities, 
being of rare occurrence, will always be the most ad- 
mired, appropriate, and noble ornaments of a free go- 
vernment. 



HENRY, Patrick, governor of Virginia, and a most 
eloquent and distinguished orator, took an early and 
active part in support of the rights of his country, 
against the tyranny of Great Britain. He was born at 
Studley, in the county of Hanover, and state of Virgi- 
nia, on the 29th May, 1736. He descended from re- 
spectable Scotch ancestry, in the paternal line, and his 
mother was a native of the county in which he was born. 
On the maternal side, at least, he seems to have descend- 
ed from a rhetorical race. 

Her brother William, the father of the present judge 
Winston, is said to have been highly endowed with that 
peculiar cast of eloquence, for which Mr. Henry became 
afterwards so justly celebrated. Of this gentleman, I 
have an anecdote from a correspondent, which I shall 



208 HENRY. 

g-ive in his own words. — ^^ I have often heard my father^ 
who was intimately acquainted with this William Win- 
ston, say, that he was the greatest orator whom he ever 
heard, Patrick Henry excepted; that during the last 
French and Indian war, and soon after Braddock's de- 
feat, when the militia were marched to the frontiers of 
Virginia, against the enemy, this Mr. Winston was the 
lieutenant of a company ; that the men, who were indif- 
ferently clothed, without tents, and exposed to the rigour 
and inclemency of the weather, discovered great aver- 
sion to the service, and were anxious, and even clamor- 
ous, to return to their families, when this William Win- 
ston, mounting a stump, (the common rostrum of tlie field 
orators in Virginia,) addressed them with such keenness 
of invective, and declaimed with such force of eloquence, 
on liberty and patriotism, that when he concluded, the 
general cry was, ' let us march on : lead us against the 
enemy ;' and they were now willing, nay, anxious to en- 
counter all those difficulties and dangers, which, but a 
few moments before, had almost produced a mutiny. " 

In childhood and youth, Patrick Henry, whose name 
renders titles superfluous, gave no presages of his future 
greatness. He learned to read and write, reluctantly, 
made some small progress in arithmetic, acquired a su- 
perficial knowledge of the Latin language, and made a 
considerable proficiency in the mathematics, the only 
branch of education for which he discovered, in his 
youth, the slightest predilection. The whole soul of his 
youth was bound up in the sports of the field. His idle- 
ness was absolutely incurable; and, of course, he proved 
a truant lad, who could sit all day on a bridge, waiting 
for a good bite, or even " one glorious nibble. '* The un- 
happy effects of this idleness were lasting as his life, and 
the biographer very properly cautions his youthful read- 
ers against following this bad example. 

His propensity to observe and comment upon the 
human character, was the only circumstance which 
distinguished him, advantageously, from his youthful 
companions. 

From what has been already stated, it will be seen, 
how little education had to do with the formation of this 
great man's mind. He was, indeed, a mere child of 



HENRY. 209 

nature, and nature seems to have been too proud and too 
jealous of her work, to permit it to be touched by the 
hand of art. She gave him Shakspeare's genius, and 
bade him, like Shakspeare, to depend on that alone. Let 
not the youthful reader, however, deduce from the ex- 
ample of Mr. Henry, an argument in favour of indolence 
and the contempt of study. Let him remember, that the 
powers which surmounted the disadvantage of those 
early habits, were such as very rarely appear upon this 
earth. I^et him remember, too, how long the genius, 
even of Mr. Henry, was kept down and hidden from the 
public view, by the sorcery of those pernicious habits ; 
through what years of poverty and wretchedness they 
doomed him to struggle; and, let him remember, that, 
at length, when in the zenith of his glory, Mr. Henry, 
himself, had frequent occasions to deplore the conse- 
quences of his early neglect of literature, and to bewail 
"the ghosts of his departed hours." 

At the age of fifteen years, young Henry was placed 
behind the counter of a merchant in the country, and at 
sixteen, his father set him up in trade, in partnership 
with his brother William. Through laziness, the love 
of music, the charms of the chase, and a readiness to 
trust every one, the firm was soon reduced to bankruptcy. 
The only advantage which resulted from his short con- 
tinuance in mercantile business, was an opportunity to 
study human characters. 

At eighteen, Mr. Henry married the daughter of an 
honest farmer, and undertook to cultivate a few acres for 
himself. — His only delights, at this time, were those 
which flow from the endearing relations of conjugal life. 
His want of agricultural skill, and his unconquerable 
aversion to every species of systematic labour, terminat- 
ed his career as a planter, in the short space of two years. 
Again he had recourse to merchandise, and again failed 
in business. Every atom of his property was now gone, 
his friends were unable to assist him any further; he had 
tried every means of support, of which he thought him- 
self capable, and every one had failed; ruin was behind 
him; poverty, debt, want, and famine, before; and as if 
his cup of misery were not already full enough, here was 
a suffering wife and children to make it overflow. Still 
s 2 



31Q «£NRY. 

he had a cheerful temper, and his passion was music^ 
dancing, and pleasantry. About this time he became 
fond of geography, and historical works generally. Livy 
was his favourite, and, in some measure, awakened the 
dormant powers of his genius. As a last effort, he de- 
termined, of his own accord, to make a trial of the law. 
He, however, disliked the professional business of an 
attorney at law, and he seems to have hoped for nothing 
more from the profession, than a scanty subsistence for 
himself and his family, and his preparation was suited 
to these humble expectations ; for, to the study of a pro- 
fession, which is said to require the lucubrations of 
twenty years, Mr. Henry devoted not more than six 
weeks. On examination he was licensed, rather through 
courtesy, and some expectation that he would study, 
than from any conviction which his examiners had of his 
present competence. At the age of four and twenty, he 
was admitted to the bar, and for three years occupied 
the back ground ; during which period the wants and 
distresses of his family were extreme, and he performed 
the duty of an assistant to his father-in-law in a tavern. 

In 1764, he pursued his favourite amusement of hunt- 
ing, with extreme ardour; and has been known to hunt 
deer,, frequently for several days together, carrying his 
provisions with him, and at night encamping in the 
woods. 

After the hunt was over, he would go from the ground 
to Louisa court, clad in a coarse cloth coat, stained with 
all the trophies of the chase, greasy leather breeches or- 
namented in the same way, leggings for boots, and a pair 
of saddle-bags on his arm. Thus accoutred, he would 
enter the court-house, take up the first of his causes that 
chanced to be called, and if there was any scope for his 
peculiar talent, throw his adversary into the back ground,, 
and astonish both court and jury by the powerful effu- 
sions of his natural eloquence. 

In the same year he was introduced to the gay and 
fashionable circle at Williamsburg, then the seat of go- 
vernment for the state, that he might be counsel in the 
case of a contested election ; but he made no preparation 
for pleading, and, as we might naturally suppose, none 
for appearing in a suitable costume. He moved awk- 



Mfevnv. 2 1 1 

wai'dly about in his threadbare and coarse dress, and 
while some thought him a prodigy, others concluded 
him to be an idiot; nevertheless, before the committee 
of elections, he delivered an argument, which judge Ty- 
ler, judge Winston, and others, pronounced the best they 
had ever heard. In the same year, it is asserted on the 
authority of Mr. Jefferson, that Mr. Henry gave the first 
impulse to the ball of the revolution. He originated the 
spirit of the revolution in Virginia, unquestionably; and 
possessed a dauntless soul, exactly suited to the import- 
ant work he was destined to perform. 

In the year 1765, he was a member of the assembly 
of Virginia. He introduced his celebrated resolutions 
against the stamp act, which breathed a spirit of liberty, 
and which had a tendency to rouse the people of that 
commonwealth in favour of our glorious revolution. 

After his death, there was found among his papers, 
one sealed, and thus endorsed; "Enclosed are the reso- 
lutions of the Virginia assembly, in 1765, concerning the 
stamp act. Let my executors open this paper." Within 
was found the following copy of the resolutions, in 
Mr. Henry's hand writing: 

" Resolved, That the first adventurers and settlers of 
this, his majesty's colony and dominion, brought with 
them, and transmitted to their posterity, and all other his 
majesty's subjects, since inhabiting in this, his majesty's 
said colony, all the privileges, franchises, and immuni- 
ties, that have at any time been held, enjoyed, and pos- 
sessed, by the people of Great Britain. 

" Resolved, That by two royal charters, granted by 
king James the first, the colonists aforesaid, are declared 
entitled to all the privileges, liberties, and immunities, 
of denizens and natural born subjects, to all intents and 
purposes, as if they had been abiding and born within 
the realm of England. 

" Resolved, That the taxation of the people by them- 
selves, or by persons chosen by themselves to represent 
them, who can only know what taxes the people are able 
to bear, and the easiest mode of raising them, and are 
equally affected by such taxes themselves, is the distin- 
guishing characteristic of British freedom, and without 
which, the ancient constitution cannot subsist. 



2 1 2 if ENRT* 

" Resolved, That his majesty's liege people of this most 
ancient colony, have uninterruptedly enjoyed the right 
of being thus governed by their own assembly, in the 
article of their taxes and internal police, and that the 
same hath never been forfeited, or any other way given 
up, but hath been constantly recognised by the king and 
people of Great Britain. 

" Resolved, therefore, That the general assembly of 
this colony, have the sole right and power to lay taxes 
and impositions upon the inhabitants of this colony ; and 
that every attempt to vest such power in any person or 
persons whatsoever, other than the general assembly 
aforesaid, has a manifest tendency to destroy British, as 
well as American freedom." 

On the back of the paper containing these resolutions, 
is the following endorsement, which is also in the hand 
writing of Mr. Henry himself. "The within resolutions 
passed the house of burgesses. May, 1765. They formed 
the first opposition to the stamp act, and the scheme of 
taxing America by the British parliament. All the co- 
lonies, either through fear, or want of opportunity to 
form an opposition, or from influence of some kind or 
other, had remained silent. I had been, for the first time, 
elected a burgess, a few days before ; was young, inex- 
perienced, unacquainted with the forms of the house, 
and the members that composed it. Poinding the men 
of weight averse to opposition, and the commencement 
of the tax at hand, and that no person was likely to step 
forth, I determined to venture, and alone, unadvised, and 
unassisted, on a blank leaf of an old law book, wrote the 
within. Upon offering them to the house, violent debates 
ensued. Many threats were uttered, and much abuse 
cast on me, by the party for submission. After a long 
and warm contest, the resolutions passed by a very small 
majority, perhaps of one or two only. The alarm spread 
throughout America with astonishing quickness, and the 
ministerial party were overwhelmed. The great point 
of resistance to British taxation was universally esta- 
blished in the colonies. This brought on the war, which 
finally separated the two countries, and gave indepen- 
dence to ours. Whether this will prove a blessing or a 
curse, will depend upon the use our people make of the 



HENRY. 213 

blessings which a gracious God hath bestowed on us. 
If they are wise, they will be great and happy. If they 
are of a contrary character, they will be miserable. 
Righteousness alone can exalt them as a nation. 

" Reader ! whoever thou art, remember this ; and in 
thy sphere, practise virtue thyself, and encourage it in 
others. — P. Henry.'* 

Such is the short, plain, and modest account, which 
Mr. Henry has left of this transaction. 

Every American realized the truth expressed in Mr. 
Henry*s resolutions ; but no man, beside himself, boldly 
dared to utter it. AH wished for independence, and all 
hitherto trembled at the thought of asserting it. 

Mr. Wirt, in his life of Henry, from which we select 
this sketch, says, '* the following is Mr. Jefferson's ac- 
count of this transaction : 

" Mr. Henry moved, and Mr. Johnson seconded these 
resolutions, successively. They were opposed by Messrs. 
Randolph, Bland, Pendleton, Wythe, and all the old 
members, whose influence in the house had, till then, 
been unbroken. They did it, not from any question of 
our rights, but on the ground, that the same sentiments 
had been, at their preceding session, expressed in a more 
conciliatory form, to which the answers were not yet 
received. But torrents of sublime eloquence from Hen- 
ry, backed by the solemn reasoning of Johnson, prevail- 
ed. The last, however, and strongest resolution, was 
carried but by a single vote. The debate on it was most 
bloody. I was then but a student, and stood at the 
door of communication between the house and the lobby 
(for as yet there was no gallery,) during the whole debate 
and vote; and I well remember, that, after the numbers 
on the division were told, and declared from the chair, 
Peyton Randolph, (the attorney-general,) came out at the 
<ioor where I was standing, and said, ^s he entered the 

lobby, ' by , I would have given five hundred guineas 

for a single vote ;* for one vote would have divided the 
house, and Robison was in the chair, who he knew would 
have negatived the resolution. 

" By these resolutions, and his manner of supporting 
them, Mr. Henry took the lead out of the hands of those 
who had theretofore guided the proceedings of the house ; 



214 HENRY. 

that is to say, of Pendleton, Wythe, Bland, Randolph/' 
It was, indeed, the measure which raised him to the ze- 
nith of his glory. He had never before had a subject 
which entirely matched his genius, and was capable of 
drawing out all the powers of his mind. It was remark- 
ed of him, throughout his life, that his talents never 
failed to rise with the occasion, and in proportion to the 
resistance which he had to encounter. The nicety of 
the vote on his last resolution, proves that this was not a 
time to hold in reserve any part of his forces. 

"It was, indeed, an alpine passage, under circum- 
stances even more unpropitious than those of Hannibal; 
for he had not only to fight, hand to hand, the powerful 
party who were already in possession of the heights, but 
at the same instant, to cheer and animate the timid band 
of followers, that were trembling, fainting, and drawing 
back, below him. It was an occasion that called upon 
him to put forth all his strength, and he did put it forth, 
in such a manner, as man never did before. The cords 
of argument with which his adversaries frequently flat- 
tered themselves they had bound him fast, became pack- 
threads in his hands. He burst them with as much ease 
as the unshorn Samson did the bands of the Philistines. 
He seized the pillars of the temple, shook them terribly^ 
and seemed to threaten his opponents with ruin. It was 
an incessant storm of lightning and thunder, which 
struck them aghast. The faint-hearted gathered cour- 
age from his countenance, and cowards became heroes, 
while they gazed upon his exploits. 

"It was in the midst of this magnificent debate, while 
he was descanting on the tyranny of the obnoxious act, 
that he exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, and with the 
look of a god, Caesar had his Brutus — Charles the first, 
his Cromwell— and George the third — [' Treason,' cried 
the speaker — * treason, treason,* echoed from every part 
of the house. It was one of those trying moments which 
is decisive of character. Henry faltered not for an in- 
stant; but rising to a loftier attitude, and fixing on the 
speaker an eye of the most determined fire, he finished 
his sentence with the firmest emphasis] may profit by 
their example. If this be treason, make the most of it." 

In August, 1774, the Virginia convention assembled 



HENRY. 2 1 5 

in Williamsburg, and passed a series of resolutions, 
whereby they pledged themselves to make common 
cause with the people of Boston in every extremity. 
They appointed as deputies to congress, on the part of 
that colony, Peyton Randolph, Richard H. Lee, George 
Washington, Richard Bland, Patrick Henry, Benjamin 
Harrison, and Edmund Pendleton, who were deputed to 
attend the first meeting of the colonial congress. 

On the 4th September, 1774, that venerable body, the 
old continental congress of the United States, (towards 
whom every American heart will bow with pious ho- 
mage, while the name of liberty shall be dear in our 
land) met for the first time at Carpenter's Hall, in the 
city of Philadelphia. Peyton Randolph, of Virginia, 
was chosen president, and the house was organized for 
business, with all the solemnities of a regular legislature. 

The most eminent men of the various colonies, were 
now, for the first time, brought together. They were 
known to each other by fame; but they were personally 
strangers. The meeting was awfully solemn. The ob- 
ject which had called them together was of incalculable 
magnitude. The liberties of no less than three millions 
of people, with that of all their posterity, were staked 
on the wisdom and energy of their councils. No wonder, 
then, at the long and deep silence which is said to have 
followed upon their organization, at the anxiety with 
which the members looked around upon each other, and 
the reluctance which every individual felt to open a 
business so fearfully momentous. In the midst of this 
deep and death -like silence, and just when it was begin- 
ning to become painfully embarrassing, Mr. Henry arose 
slowly, as if borne down by the weight of the subject. 
After faltering, according to his habit, through a most 
impressive exordium, in which he merely echoed back 
the consciousness of every other heart, in deploring his 
inability to do justice to the occasion, he launched, gra- 
dually, into a recital of the colonial wrongs. Rising, as 
he advanced, with the grandeur of his subject, and glow- 
ing at length with all the majesty and expectation of the 
occasion, his speech seemed more than that of mortal 
man. Even those who had heard him in all his glory, 
in the house of burgesses of Virginia, were astonished 



216 ' HENRY. 

at the manner in which his talents seemed to swell and 
expand themselves, to fill the vast theatre in which he 
was now placed. There was no rant, no rhapsody, no 
labour of the understanding, no straining of the voice, no 
confusion of the utterance. His countenance was erect, 
his eye steady, his action noble, his enunciation clear 
and firm, his mind poised on its centre, his views of his 
subject comprehensive and great, and his imagination, 
corruscating with a magnificence and a variety, which 
struck even that assembly with amazement and awe. 
He sat down amidst murmurs of astonishment and ap- 
plause ; and as he had been before proclaimed the great- 
est orator of Virginia, he was now, on every hand, 
admitted to be the first orator of America. 

When Mr. Henry returned from this first congress to 
his constituents, he was asked " whoin he thought the 
greatest man in congress?" and replied, "if you speak 
of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is by far 
the greatest orator; but if you speak of solid information 
and sound judgment, colonel Washington is unquestion- 
ably the greatest man on that floor." 

In March, 1775, Mr. Henry was a member of the con- 
vention of delegates from the several counties and cor- 
porations of Virginia, assembled in Richmond. In this 
body, while all the other leading members were still 
disposed to pursue only milk-and-water measures, he 
proposed resolutions for embodying, arming, and disci- 
plining such a number of men, as should be sufficient to 
defend the colony ai;ainst the aggressions of the mother 
country. The resolutions \vere opposed as not only rash 
in policy, but as harsh, and well nigh impious, in point 
of feeling. Some of the warmest patriots of the conven- 
tion opposed them. Bland, Harrison, Pendleton, &c. 
resisted them with all their inMuence arid abilities. An 
ordinary man, in Mr. Henry's situation, would have 
been glad to compound with the displeasure of the 
house, by being permitted to withdraw his resolutions 
in silence. 

" Not so, Mr. Henry. His was a spirit fitted to raise 
the whirlwind, as well as to ride in, and direct it. His 
was that comprehensive view, tjiat unerring prescience, 
that perfect command over the actions of men, which 



HENRY. 217 

qualified him not merely to guide, but almost to create 
the destinies of nations. 

" He rose at this time with a majesty unusual to him 
in an exordium, and with all that self-possession by which 
he was so invariably distinguished. *' No man," he said, 
" thought more highly than he did of the patriotism, as 
well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who had 
just addressed the house. But different men often saw 
the same subject in different lights ; and, therefore, he 
hoped it would not be thought disrespectful to those 
gentlemen, if, entertaining as he did, opinions of a cha- 
racter very opposite to theirs, he should speak forth Ms 
sentiments freely, and without reserve. This, he said, 
was no time for ceremony. The question before the 
house was one of awful moment to this country. For 
his own part, he considered it as nothing less than a ques- 
tion of freedom or slavery. And in proportion to the 
magnitude of the subject, ought to be the freedom of the 
debate. It was only in this way that they could hope to 
arrive at truth, and fulfil the great responsibility which 
they held to God and their country. Should he keep 
back his opinions at sucii a time, through fear of giving 
offence, he should consider himself as guilty of treason 
towards his country, and of an act of disloyalty towards 
the majesty of heaven, which he revered above all earthly 
kings. 

"Mr. President," said he, "it is natural to man to in- 
dulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our 
eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that 
syren, till she transforms us into beasts. Is this," he 
asked, "the part of wise men, engaged in a great and 
arduous struggle for liberty? Were we disposed to be 
of the number of those, who having eyes, see not, and 
having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly con- 
cern their temporal salvation? For his part, whatever 
anguish of spirit it might cost, he was willing to know 
the whole truth; to know the worst; and to provide for it. 

"He had," he said, "but one lamp by which his feet 
were guided ; and that was the lamp of experience. He 
knew of no way of judging of the future but by the past. 
And judging by the past, he wished to know what there 
had been in the conduct of the British ministry, for the 



218 HENRY. 

last ten years, to justify those hopes with which gentle- 
men had been pleased to solace themselves and the house ? 
Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has 
been lately received ? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a 
snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed 
with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception 
of our petition comports with those warlike preparations 
which cover our waters, and darken our land. Are fleets 
and armies necessary to a work of love and reconcilia- 
tion ? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be re- 
conciled, that force must be called in to win back our 
love ? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the 
implements of war and subjugation ; the last arguments 
to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means 
this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to 
submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible 
motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy in this 
quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of 
navies and armies ? No, sir, she has none. They are 
meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are 
sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains, which 
the British ministry have been so long forging. And 
what have we to oppose to them ? Shall we try argument ? 
Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. 
Have we any thing new to offer upon the subject? No- 
thing. We have held the subject up in every light of 
which it is capable ; but it has been all in vain. Shall 
Ave resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What 
terms shall we find, which have not been already ex- 
hausted ? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves 
longer. Sir, we have done every thing that could be 
done, to avert the storm that is coming on. We have 
petitioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, 
we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have 
implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands 
of the ministry and parliament. Our petitions have been 
slighted, our remonstrances have produced additional 
violence and insult, our supplications have been disre- 
garded, and we have been spurned, with contempt, from 
the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things, may 
we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. 
Th&rer is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free, 



HTENRY. 219 

if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable pri- 
vileges for which we have been so long contending, if we 
mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which 
we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledg- 
ed ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object 
of our contest shall be obtained, we must fight ! I repeat 
it, sir, we must fight!! An appeal to arms, and to the 
God of hosts, is all that is left us ! 

*' They tell us, sir," continued Mr. Henry, " that we 
are weak, unable to cope with so formidable an adver- 
sary. But when shall we be stronger ? Will it be the next 
week, or the next year ? Will it be when we are totally 
disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed 
in every house ? Shall we gather strength by irresolution 
and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual 
resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging 
the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall 
have bound us h-and and foot ? Sir, we are not weak, if 
we make a proper use of those means which the God of 
nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of 
people armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a 
country as that which we possess, are invincible by any 
force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, 
sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just 
God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who 
will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The 
battle, sir, is not to the strong alone : it is to the vigilant, 
the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. 
If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to 
retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in sub- 
mission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their 
clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston ! The 
war is inevitable; and let it come! ! I repeat it, sir, let 
it come ! ! ! 

" It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen 
may cry peace, peace; but there is po peace. The war 
is actually begun ! The next gale that sweeps from the 
north, will bring to our ears the clash of resounding 
arms ! Our brethren are already in the field ! Why stand 
we here idle ? What is it that gentlemen wish ? What 
would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to 
be purchased at the price of chains and slavery ? Forbid it, 



220 HENRY, 

Almighty God ! ! I know not what course others may 
take, but as for me," cried he, with both his arms extend- 
ed aloft, his brows knit, every feature marked with the 
resolute purpose of his soul, and his voice swelled to its 
boldest note of exclamation, " give me liberty, or give 
me death!" 

" He took his seat. No murmur of applause was 
heard. The effect was too deep. After the trance of a 
moment, several members started from their seats. The 
cry, 'to arms,* seemed to quiver on every lip, and gleam 
from every eye ! Richard Henry Lee arose and support- 
ed Mr. Henry, with his usual spirit and elegance. But 
his melody was lost amidst the agitations of that ocean, 
which the master-spirit of the storm had lifted up on 
high. That supernatural voice still sounded in their 
ears, and shivered along their arteries. They heard in 
every pause the cry of liberty or death. They became 
impatient of speech ; their souls were on fire for action." 

The resolutions were adopted, and Patrick Henry, 
Richard Henry Lee, Robert C. Nicholas, Benjamin Har- 
rison, Lemuel Riddick, George Washington, Adam 
Stevens, Andrew Lewis, William Christman, Edmund 
Pendleton, Thomas Jefferson, and Isaac Zane, esquires, 
were appointed a committee to prepare the plan called 
for by the resolutions. 

In April, 1775, after lord Dunmore had conveyed on 
board a ship, a part of the powder from the magazine 
of Williamsburg, Mr. Henry distinguished himself by 
assembling the independent companies of Hanover and 
King William counties, and directing them towards 
Williamsburg, with the avowed design of obtaining pay- 
ment for the powder, or of compelling its restitution. 
The object was effected, for the king's receiver-general 
gave a bill for the value of the property. The governor 
immediately fortified his palace, and issued a proclama^ 
tion, charging those who had procured the bill with 
rebellious practices. This only occasioned a number of 
county meetings, which applauded the conduct of Mr. 
Henry, and expressed a determination to protect him. 
In August, 1775, when a new choice of deputies to con- 
gress was made, he was not re-elected, for his services 
were now demanded xnore exclusively in his own ?tat^9 



HENRY. 221 

After the departure of lord Dunmore, he was chosen the 
first governor in June, 1776, and he held this office seve- 
ral succeeding years, bending all his exertions to pro- 
mote the freedom and independence of his country. 

In June, 1777, and again in 1778, he was unanimously 
re-elected governor, but he declined the honour. In 1780, 
we find him again in the assembly, and one of the most 
active members of the house. 

In 1788, he was a member of the convention of the 
state of Virginia, which was appointed to consider the 
constitution of the United States; and he exerted all the 
force of his masterly eloquence, day after day, to pre- 
vent its adoption. He contended that changes were dan- 
gerous to liberty, that the old confederation had carried 
us through the war, and secured our independence, and 
needed only amendment; that the proposed was a con- 
solidated government, in which the sovereignty of the 
states would be lost, and all pretensions to rights and 
privileges would be rendered insecure. He offered a re- 
solution, containing a bill of rights and amendments, 
which, however, was not accepted. 

" The convention had been attended from its com- 
mencement by a vast concourse of citizens, of all ages 
.and conditions. — The interest so universally felt in the 
question itself, and not less the transcendent talents 
which were engaged in its discussion, presented such 
attractions as could not be resisted. 

" Towards the close of the session, an incident occur- 
red of a character so extraordinary, as to deserve par- 
ticular notice. The question of adoption or rejection 
was now approaching. The decision was still uncertain, 
and every mind and every heart was filled with anxiety. 
Mr. Henry partook most deeply of this feeling; and 
while engaged, as it were, in his last effort, availed him- 
self of the strong sensation which he knew to pervade 
the house, and made an appeal to it, which, in point of 
sublimity, has never been surpassed in any age or coun- 
try in the world. After describing, in accents which 
spoke to the soul, and to which every other bosom deeply 
responded, the awful immensity of the question, to 
th€ present and future generations, and the throbbing 
apprehensions with which he looked to the issue, he 
T 2 



222 HENRY. 

passed from the house and from the earth, and looking, 
as he said, * beyond that horizon which binds mortal 
eyes,' he pointed, with a countenance and action that 
made the blood run back upon the aching heart, to those 
celestial beings, who were hovering over the scene, and 
waiting with anxiety for a decision which involved the 
happiness or misery of more than half the human race. 
To those beings, with the same thrilling look and action, 
he had just addressed an invocation, that made every 
nerve shudder with supernatural horror, when, lo ! a 
storm at that instant arose, which shook the whole build- 
ing, and the spirits whom he had called, seemed to have 
come at his bidding ! Nor did his eloquence or the storm 
immediately cease; but availing himself of the incident, 
with a master's art, he seemed to mix in the fight of his 
ethereal auxiliaries, and ' rising on the wings of the tem- 
pest, to seize upon the artillery of heaven, and direct its 
fiercest thunders against the heads of his adversaries.* 
The scene became insupportable; and the house rose, 
without the formality of adjournment, the members 
rushing from their seats, with precipitation and confu- 
sion." 

The constitution was adopted by a small majority. 
Mr. Henry's bill of rights, and his amendments, were 
then accepted, and directed to be transmitted to the se- 
veral states. — Some of these amendments have been in- 
grafted into the federal constitution. 

" The case of John Hook is worthy of insertion. Hook 
was a Scotchman, a man of wealth, and suspected of 
being unfriendly to the American cause. During the 
distresses of the American army, consequent on the joint 
invasion of Cornwallis and Phillips, in 1781, a Mr. Ve- 
nable, an army commissary, had taken two of Hook's 
steers for the use of the troops. The act had not been 
strictly legal; and on the establishment of peace. Hook, 
under the advice of Mr. Cowan, a gentleman of some 
distinction in the law, thought proper to bring an action 
of trespass against Mr. Venable, in the district court of 
New London. Henry appeared for the defendant, and is 
said to have disported himself in this cause to the infi- 
nite enjoyment of his hearers; the unfortunate Hook 
always excepted. After Mr. Henry became animated 



HENRY. 223 

in the cause, he appeared to have complete control over 
the passions of his audience : at one time he excited their 
indignation against Hook : vengeance was visible in 
every countenance : again, when he chose to relax and 
ridicule him, the whole audience was in a roar of laugh- 
ter. He painted the distresses of the American army, 
exposed almost naked to the rigour of a winter's sky, 
and marking the frozen ground over which they march- 
ed, with the blood of their unshod feet; where was the 
man, he said, who has an American heart in his bosom, 
who would not have thrown open his fields, his barns, 
his cellars, the doors of his house, the portals of his 
breast, to have received with open arms, the meanest 
soldier in that little band of famished patriots ? Where 
is the man ? There he stands ; but whether the heart of 
an American beats in his bosom, you, gentlemen, are to 
judge. He then carried the jury, by the powers of his 
imagination, to the plains around York, the surrender 
of which had followed shortly after the act complained 
of; he depicted the surrender in the most glowing and 
noble colours of his eloquence. The audience saw be- 
fore their eyes the humiliation and dejection of the Bri- 
tish, as they marched out of their trenches ; they saw the 
triumph which lighted up every patriotic face, and the 
shouts of victory, and the cry of Washington and liberty, 
as it rung and echoed through the American ranks, and 
was reverberated from the hills and shores of the neigh- 
bouring river ; but, hark ! what notes of discord are these 
which disturb the general joy, and silence the acclama- 
tions of victory ; they are the notes of John Hook, hoarsely 
bawling through the American camp, beef! beef! beef! 

The whole audience were convulsed : a particular in- 
cident will give a better idea of the effect, than any ge- 
neral description. The clerk of the court, unable to 
command himself, and unwilling to commit any breach 
of decorum in his place, rushed out of the court house, 
and threw himself on the grass, in the most violent 
paroxysm of laughter, where he was rolling, when Hook, 
with very different feelings, came out for relief, into the 
yard also. The cause was decided almost by acclama- 
tion. The jury retired for form sake, and instantly re- 
turned with a. verdict for the defendant. Nor did the 



224 ifENRY. 

effect of Mr. Henry's speech stop here. The people 
were so highly excited by the tory audacity of such a 
suit, that Hook began to hear around him a cry more 
terrible than that of beef: it was the cry of tar and fea- 
ihers : from the application of which, it is said, that no- 
thing saved him but a precipitate flight, and the speed 
of his horse." 

In the two remaining years he continued a member 
of the assembly. In the spring of 1791, he declined a 
re-election, with the purpose of bidding a final adieu to 
public life. In August, 1795, he was nominated by pre- 
sident Washington, as secretary of state, but considera- 
tions of a private nature induced him to decline the 
honourable trust. In November, 1796, he was again 
elected governor of Virginia, and this office also he al- 
most immediately resigned. In the year 1799, he was 
appointed by president Adams, as an envoy to France, 
with Messrs. Ellsworth and Murray; this he also declin- 
ed, in consequence of a severe indisposition, to which 
he was then subject, and of his advanced age and in- 
creasing debility. Governor Davie, of North Carolina, 
was appointed in his place. He lived but a short time 
after this testimony of the respect in which his talents 
and patriotism were held. 

The disease which had been preying upon him for two 
years, now hastened to its crisis. He died on the 6th of 
June, 1799, in the 62nd year of his age. 

"Thus lived, and thus died, the celebrated Patrick 
Henry, of Virginia; a man who justly deserves to be 
ranked among the highest ornaments, and the noblest 
benefactors of his country. In his habits of living, he 
was remarkably temperate and frugal. He seldom drank 
any thing but water. His morals were strict. As a 
husband, a father, a master, he had no superior. He 
was kind and hospitable to the stranger, and most friend- 
ly and accommodating to his neighbours." 

The following affectionate tribute to the memory of 
Henry, appeared in the Virginia papers, immediately 
after his death. 

** Mourn, Virginia, mourn; your Henry is gone. Ye 
friends to liberty in every clime, drop a tear. No more 
will his social feelings spread delight through his happy 



HOPKINSON. 225 

house. No more will his edifying example dictate to his 
numerous offspring the sweetness of virtue, and the ma- 
jesty of patriotism. No more will his sage advice, guid- 
ed by zeal for the common happiness, impart light and 
utility to his caressing neighbours. No more will he 
illuminate the public councils with sentiments drawn 
from the cabinet of his own mind, ever directed to his 
country's good, and clothed in eloquence sublime, de- 
lightful, and commanding. Farewell, first-rate patriot, 
farewell. As long as our rivers flow, or mountains stand, 
so long will your excellence and worth be the theme of 
our homage and endearment; and Virginia, bearing in 
mind her loss, will say to rising generations, imitate my 
Henry." 

He left in his will the following testimony m favour 
of the Christian religion : 

" I have now disposed of all my property to my fami- 
ly; there is one thing more I wish I could give them, 
and that is the Christian religion. If they had this, and 
I had not given them one shilling, they would be rich; 
and if they had not that, and I had given them all the 
world, they would be poor, " 



■;r> 



HOPKINSON, Francis, judge of the court of admi- 
ralty, in Pennsylvania, was born in Pennsylvania, in the 
year 1738. He possessed an uncommon share of genius, 
of a peculiar kind. He excelled in music and poetry ; 
and had some knowledge in painting. But these arts did 
not monopolize all the powers of his mind. He was well 
skilled in many practical and useful sciences, particularly 
in mathematics and natural philosophy; and he had a 
general acquaintance with the principles of anatomy, 
chemistry, and natural history. But his forte was hu- 
mour and satire, in both of which, he was not surpassed 
by Lucian, Swift, or Rabelias. These extraordinary pow- 
ers were consecrated to the advancement of the interests 
of patriotism, virtue, and science. It would fill many 
pages to mention his numerous publications during the 



2^6 HOPKINSOM. 

revolutionary war, all of which were directed to these 
important objects. He began in the year 1775, with a 
small tract, which he entitled " A Pretty Story," in 
which he exposed the tyranny of Great Britain, in Ame- 
rica, by a most beautiful allegory, and he concluded his^ 
contributions to his country in this way, with the history 
of "The New Roof," a performance, which for wit, hu- 
mour, and good sense, must last as long as the citizens 
of America continue to admire, and be happy under the 
present national government of the United States. 

Newspaper scandal frequently, for months together, 
disappeared or languished, after the publication of se- 
veral of his irresistible satires upon that disgraceful spe- 
cies of writing. He gave a currency to a thought or a 
phrase, in these effusions from his pen, which never fail- 
ed to bear down the spirit of the times, and frequently 
to turn the divided tides of party rage into one general 
channel of ridicule or contempt. 

Sometimes he employed his fomudable powers of hu- 
iTlour and satire in exposing the formalities of technical 
science. He thought much, and thought justly upon the 
subject of education. He held several of the arts and 
sciences, which are taught in colleges, in great contempt. 
His specimen of modern learning in a tedious exami- 
nation, the only object of which was to describe the 
properties of a " Salt Box," published in the American 
Museum, for February, 1787, will always be relished as 
a morsel of exquisite humour. 

Mr. Hopkinson possessed uncommon talents for pleas- 
ing in company. His wit was not of that coarse kind, 
which was calculated to set the table in a roar. It was 
mild and elegant, and infused cheerfulness and a species 
of delicate joy, rather than mirth, into the hearts of all 
who heard it. His empire over the attention and pas- 
sions of his company, was not purchased at the expense 
of innocence. A person who has passed many delightful 
hours in his society, declared, with pleasure, that ho 
never once heard him use a profane expression, nor utter 
a word, which would have made a lady blush, or have 
clouded her countenance for a moment with a look of 
disapprobation. It is this species of wit alone, that in- 
dicates a rich and powerful imagination, while that which 



HOPKINSON- 227 

is tinctured with profanity, or indelicacy, argues poverty 
of genius, inasmuch as they have both been considered 
very properly as the cheapest products of the mind. 

Mr. Hopkinson's character for abilities and patriot- 
ism, procured him the confidence of his countrymen in 
the most trying exigencies of their affairs. He repre- 
sented the state of New Jersey, in congress, in the year 
1776, and subscribed the ever memorable declaration of 
independence. He held an appointment in the loan office 
for several years, and afterwards succeeded George 
Ross, Esq. as judge of the admiralty for the state of 
Pennsylvania. In this station he continued till the year 
1790, when he was appointed judge of the district court 
in Pennsylvania, by the illustrious Washington, then pre- 
sident of the United States; and in each of these judicial 
offices, he conducted himself with ihe greatest ability 
and integrity. 

His person was a little below the common size His 
features were small, but extremely animated. His speech 
was quick, and all his motions seemed to partake of the 
unceasing activity and versatility of the powers of his 
mind. 

It only remains to add, to this account of Mr. Hop- 
kinson, that the various causes which contributed to the 
establishment of the independence of the federal govern- 
ment of the United States, will not be full tj traced^ unless 
much is ascribed to the irresistible iniiuence of the ridi- 
cule which he poured forth, from time to time, upon the 
enemies of those great political events. 

He was an active and useful member of three great 
parties, which, at different times, divided his native state. 
He was a whig, a republican, and a federalist, and he 
lived to see the principles and the wishes of each of 
those parties finally and universally successful. Although 
his labours had been rewarded with many plentiful har- 
vests of well-earned fame, yet his death, to his country 
and his friends, was premature. He had been subject to 
frequent attacks of the g-out in his head, but for some 
time before his death, he had enjoyed a considerable re- 
spite from them. On Sunday evening. May 8th, 1791, 
he was somewhat indisposed, and passed a restless night. 
He rose on Monday morning, at his usual hour, and 



228 HOWARD. 



breakfasted with his family. At seven o*clock, he was 
seized with an apoplectic fit, which in two hours put a 
period to his existence, in the fifty-third year of his age. 



HOWARD, John Eager, Was born on the 4th of 
June, 1752, in Baltimore county, Maryland. His grand- 
father, Joshua Howard, an Englishman by birth, havings 
while yet very young, left his father's house, in the vi^ 
cinity of Manchester, to join the army of the duke of 
York, subsequently James H., during Monmouth's in- 
surrection, was afterwards afraid to encounter his pa- 
rent's displeasure, and came to seek his fortune in 
America. This was in the year 1685-86. He obtained 
a grant of the land in Baltimore county, on which colo- 
nel Howard was born, and which is still in the family,, 
and married Miss Joanna O'Carroil, whose father had 
lately emigrated from Ireland. Cornelius, one of his 
sons by this lady, and father of the subject of this sketch,, 
married Miss Ruth Eager, the grand -daughter of George 
Eager, whose estate adjoined, and now makes a considera- 
ble part of the city of Baltimore. The Eagers came from 
England, probably soon after the charter to lord Balti- 
more, but the records afford little information prior to 
1668, when the estate near Baltimore was purchased. 

John Eager Howard, not educated for any particular 
profession, was determined to that of antns, by the cir- 
cumstances of his country. One of the first measures of 
defence adopted by the colonies against the mother coun- 
try, was the assemblage of bodies of the militia, termed 
flying camps. One of them was formed in Maryland^ 
in 1776, and Mr. Howard was appointed to a captaincy 
in the regiment of colonel J. Carvil Hall. His commis- 
sion, signed by Matthew Tilghman,the president of the 
convention of Maryland, is dated the 25th of June, 1776, 
a few days after he had completed his twenty-fourth 
year. This corps was dismissed, however, in the De- 
cember of the same year, congress having required of 
each of the states to furnish a certain portion of regular 



HOWARD. 229 

troops, as a more effective system of defence. On the 
organization of the seven regiments which were to be 
furnished by Maryland, captain Howard, who had been 
retained by the wish of the commissioners empowered 
to appoint officers, rather than his own, was promoted 
to a majority in one of them, the fourth, under his for- 
mer commander, colonel Hall. His commission is dated 
the lOth of April, 1777. On the first of June, 1779, he 
was appointed lieutenant-colonel of the fifth, and in the 
following spring, he was transferred to the sixth; and 
finally, after the battle of Hobkick's Hill, he succeeded 
to the command of the second, in consequence of the 
death of lieutenant-colonel Ford, who never recovered 
of a wound received in that battle. 

Of the services of colonel Howard during these years, 
and throughout the war, we have not limits, nor is it 
necessary to speak. In the chivalrous and hazardous 
operations of Greene in the south, he was one of his most 
efficient and conspicuous coadjutors. That gallant ge- 
neral, an exact discriminater of merit, pronounced him 
as good an officer as the world afforded ; to have the best 
disposition, and correspondent ability, to promote the 
service, and to have conferred great obligations on him- 
self, a?)d greater on the public. '*He deserves," said 
(ireene, " a statue of gold no less than Roman and Gre- 
cian heroes." '* At the battle of Cowpens," says Lee, 
" he seized the critical moment, and turned the fortune 
of the day. He was alike conspicuous, though not alike 
successful, at Guilford and the Eutaws; and at all times, 
and on all occasions, eminently useful." Besides the bat- 
tle just mentioned, he was in the engagement of White 
Plains, of Germantown, of Monmouth, Camden, Hob- 
kick's Hill, and others which may be known to our read- 
ers. Having been trained to the infantry service, he was 
always employed in that line, and was distinguished for 
pushing into close battle, and with fixed bayonet; an 
honourable evidence of his intrepidity, as it is well known 
how seldom bayonets are actually crossed in battle, even 
with the most veteran troops. It was at Cowpens that 
this mode of fighting was resorted to, for the first time 
in the war, and the Maryland line was so frequently af- 
terwards put to this service, as almost to annihilate that 



230 



HOWARD. 



t^ailant corps. In this battle, colonel Howard, at one 
time, had in his hands the swords of seven officers who 
had surrendered to him personally. During the engage- 
ment, having ordered some movement of one of the flank 
companies, it was mistaken by the men for an order to 
retreat. While the line was in the act of falling back, 
Morgan rode up to him, exclaiming, " that the day was 
lost." "Look at that line," replied colonel Howard; 
" men who can retreat in such order, are not beaten." 
Morgan then pointed out a position which he ordered 
him to take, and make a stand ; but halting his men, and 
facing them about, he poured in a sudden fire on the ene- 
my, and then, on his own responsibility, dashed on them 
with the bayonet. It was on this occasion that he saved 
the life of the British general O'Hara, whom he found 
clinging to his stirrup, and claiming quarter. O'Hara 
afterwards addressed to him several letters, thanking 
him for his life. 

Colonel Howard continued in his command till the 
army Avas disbanded, when he retired to his patrimonial 
estate near Baltimore. He soon after married Margaret 
Chew, the daughter of Benjamin Chew, of Philadelphia ; 
a lady whose courteous manners and elegant hospitality 
will long be remembered by the society at Baltimore, 
of which, as well as of the best company throughout the 
country, her house was the gay and easy resort. In No- 
vember, 1788, colonel Howard was chosen the governor 
of Maryland, which post he filled for three years; and 
having, in the autumn of 1796, been elected to the senate 
of the United States, to fill the vacancy occasioned by 
the resignation of Mr. Potts, he was, the same session, 
chosen for the full term of service, which expired on the 
4th of March, 1803. 

The fortunate situation of colonel Howard's estate, in 
the immediate vicinity of Baltimore, not only placed him 
above the want which has pursued the old age of too 
many of our veterans, but was the foundation of subse- 
quent opulence. The inconsiderable town which, at the 
close of the war, numbered less than ten thousand souls, 
has since, under the influences of that liberty which he 
aided in asserting, expanded to a city of seventy-two 
thousand, embracing by degrees within its growing 



HoWARn. 



231 



Streets, the venerable shades which sheltered the retired 
soldier. Instead of the deep forest, the precipitous hills, 
and the unwholesome marshes, in which commerce 
tempted our ancestors to plant themselves, his mansion 
now overlooks a large and busy mart of men, of which 
every rising dome and tower, is in some sort a monument 
of his own successful patriotism. An old age warmed 
and enlivened by such topics of grateful reflection, is the 
most enviable of the conditions of human life, as well as 
an object of the utmost veneration and regard. Towards 
the soldier of the Cowpens, this regard was felt, not only 
by his immediate neighbours, and by his former com- 
panions in arms, but by the most eminent worthies of his 
day. The "Father of his Country," in more than one 
letter, expressed to him his confidence and esteem. In 
one, he regrets colonel Howard's declining to accept a 
post, as a loss both to himself and to the public, and re- 
quests in another, the interposition of a gentleman in 
Philadelphia, to induce the colonel's acceptance. "Had 
your inclination," says "Washington, in his letter to colo- 
nel Howard," and private pursuits permitted you to take 
the office that was offered to you, it would have been a 
very pleasing circumstance to me, and, 1 am persuaded, 
as I observed to you on a former occasion, a very ac- 
ceptable one to the public. But the reasons which you 
have assigned for not doing so, carry conviction along 
with them, and must, however reluctantly, be submit- 
ted to." 

At his death, colonel Howard was, we believe, the 
highest officer in rank in the continental service, except 
general Lafayette. He himself did not know of any other. 

The character of colonel Howard partook of the 
strength of the school in which it was trained. His first 
lessons, received in the thoughtful infancy of our coun- 
try, had imbued his mind with the nervous and un- 
adorned wisdom of the time. His manhood, hardened in 
the stormy season of the revolution, was taught patience 
by privation, and virtue by common example. By his 
worth he had won the painful station of a champion who 
was not to be spared from the field of action, and his 
sense of duty was too peremptory to permit him to re- 
fuse the constant requisitions of this perilous honour. 



232 HOWARD. 

In the camp, therefore, amidst the accidents of war, hi& 
moral constitution acquired the hardihood, and his arm 
the prowess of ancient chivah^y. He reached in safety 
the close of that anxious struggle, with a mind braced 
by calamity, and familiarized to great achievements. It 
threw him on the world in the vigour of his days, gifted 
with the qualities of a provident, brave, temperate and 
inflexible patriot. The characteristics thus acquired, 
never faded in subsequent life. Pursued by an unusual 
share of honour and regard as a founder of the liberties 
of his country, he was never beguiled by the homage it 
attracted. A fortune that might be deemed princely, 
was never used to increase the lustre of his station, or 
the weight of his authority, but was profusely dispensed 
in public benefactions, and acts of munificence. With 
the allurements of power continually soliciting his am- 
bition, he never threw himself into the public service but 
when the emergencies of the state left him no privilege 
of refusal. Under such conditions only, he administered 
the grave duties of office with an integrity^ wisdom, and 
justice, that gave to his opinions an authentic and abso- 
lute sway. 

Amidst the frantic agitations of party, which for a 
series of years convulsed the nation, he almost alone in 
his generation, won the universal confidence. The most 
inveterate popular prejudices seemed to yield to the 
affectionate conviction of his impregnable honesty, his 
unblenching love of country, and that personal indepen- 
dence, which neither party zeal could warp from its 
course, nor passion subvert, nor faction alarm; and in 
their bitterest exacerbations, his fellow citizens of all 
ranks, turned towards him as to a fountain of undefiled 
patriotism. In private life he was distinguished for the 
amenity of his manners, his hospitality, and his extensive 
and useful knowledge. He possessed a memory pecu- 
liarly minute, and a love of information that never sank 
under labours of acquisition. These faculties rendered 
him, perhaps, the most accurate repository of the history 
of his own time, in this or any other country. His ha^ 
bits of life were contemplative, cautious, scrupulously 
just, and regulated by the strictest method. 

Few men have enjoyed a more enviable lot; his youth 



i 



JEFFERSON. 



distinguished in the field, his age in the council, and 
every period solaced by the attachment of friends. Af- 
fluent in fortune, as rich in public regard, and blessed 
in his domestic and personal associations, he has glided 
away from the small band of his compatriots, as full of 
honours as of years. The example of such a citizen is 
a legacy to his country, of more worth than the precepts 
of an age. 

He died at his seat, in Baltimore county, on the 13th 
of October, 1827. 



JEFFERSON, Thomas, was born on the 2nd day of 
April, 1743, in the county of Albemarle, in Virginia. 
His ancestors had, at an early period, emigrated from 
England to that colony, where his grandfather was born. 
Of that gentleman little is known, and of his son, the 
only circumstance much circulated, is, that he was one 
of the commissioners for settling the boundary between 
Virginia and North Carolina, and assisted in forming 
the map of Virginia, published under the name of Fry 
and Jefferson. Thesepccupations require and pre-suppose 
studies of a liberal and scientific nature — but his cha- 
racter presents nothing remarkable; and our Thomas 
Jefferson, instead of the accidental lustre which may be 
conferred by distinguished ancestry, enjoys the higher 
glory of being the first to illustrate his name. The pa- 
trimony derived from them, placed him in a condition of 
moderate affluence, far beyond want, yet not above exer- 
tion ; that temperate zone of life most propitious to the 
culture of the heart and the understanding. He received 
his education at the college of William and Mary; on 
leaving which, he commenced the study of the law under 
chancellor Wythe, and after attaining his majority, was 
elected a member of the state legislature. During seve- 
ral years afterwards, he was engaged in a successful and 
lucrative practice, and divided his time between his pro- 
fession and his duties as a member of the legislature. 

In the year 1774, he was elected a member of the 
V 2 



234 JEFFERSON. 

convention of Virginia, which appointed the delegates 
to the first congress; but being prevented by sickness 
from reaching the seat of government, he sent on a pro- 
ject of the instructions with which he thought these 
delegates should be furnished. Struck by its force, the 
convention caused it to be published under the name of 
"A summary of the rights of British America, set forth 
in some resolutions intended for the inspection of the 
present delegates of the people of Virginia, now in con- 
vention, by a native and member of the house of bur- 
gesses." This was the first work of Jefferson; and is so 
characteristic of its author, that it contains all the germs 
of those principles and modes of thought, and even of 
expression, which his subsequent life developed and ma- 
tured. But its most striking peculiarity is its general 
tone and spirit, which make it the natural precursor of 
the declaration of independence. 

The delegates are instructed to represent to the king 
their hopes " that this their joint address, penned in the 
language of truth, and divested of those expressions of 
servility, which would persuade his majesty that we are 
asking favours, and not rights, shall obtain from his ma- 
jesty a more respectful acceptance ; and this his majesty 
will think we have reason to expect, when he reflects 
that he is no more than the chief officer of the people, 
appointed by the laws, and circumscribed with definitive 
powers, to assist in working the great machine of go- 
vernment, erected for their use, and consequently subject 
to their superintendence.'* 

The wrongs of the colonies are then recapitulated in 
a strain of eloquent boldness, till kindling with the en- 
thusiasm of the subject, he concludes thus: 

"These are our grievances, which we have thus laid 
before his majesty, with that freedom of language and 
sentiment, which becomes a free people claiming their 
rights as derived from the laws of nature, and not as the 
gift of their chief magistrate. Let those flatter who fear, 
it is not an American art. To give praise which is not 
due, might be well from the venal, but would ill beseem 
those who are asserting the rights of human nature. 
They know, and will therefore say, that kings are the 
servants, not the proprietors, of the people. We are 



JEFFERSON. 235 

willing, on our own part, to sacrifice every thing which 
reason can ask, to the restoration of that tranquillity, for 
which all must wish. On their part, let them be ready 
to establish union and a generous plan. Let them name 
their terms, but let them be just. Accept of every com- 
mercial preference it is in our power to give for such 
things as we can raise for their use, or they make for 
ours. But let them not think to exclude us from going 
to other markets to dispose of those commodities which 
they cannot use, or to supply those wants which they 
cannot supply. Still less let it be proposed that our pro- 
perties within our own territories shall be taxed or re- 
gulated by any power on earth but our own. The God 
who gave us life, gave us liberty at the same time; the 
hand of force may destroy, but cannot disjoin them. 
This, sire, is our last, our determined resolution.'* 

The reputation acquired by this production, naturally 
directed the eyes of the legislature towards him, when 
in the following year, 1775, it became necessary to an- 
swer what was called " the conciliatory proposition" of 
lord North. This offer was, that if any colony would 
defray the expense of its own government and its own 
defence, it should be exempt from taxation by parlia- 
ment, except for the regulation of trade, which tax 
should still be levied for the account of the colony. The 
acceptance of this proposal the answer denounced in a 
tone of indignation, as seducing them from their fidelity 
to their American brethren. 

Its extraordinary freedom acquired for him the dis- 
tinction of being proscribed in a bill which passed the 
house of lords, and excepted from the general pardon 
authorized to the rest of his rebellious countrymen. 

At length the impulse of events and of his own genius 
hastened him onward, and in the same year he was 
elected to the congress of the union, and joined that body 
at Philadelphia, in June, 1775. It was then that he first 
saw, face to face, the men with whom he had been so 
long co-operating; that he first knew Franklin, the 
Adamses, and all the strong intellects and the firm 
hearts by whom they were surrounded. Among these, 
he was immediately recognised, by the instinct which 
attracts to each other kindred minds in times of danger, 



236 JEFFERSON. 

as a master-spirit worthy to share their deepest coun- 
sels. They found him fearless in temper, fertile in 
resources, prompt in pouring out the stores of his 
accumulated knowledge, and, though indisposed for pub- 
lic speaking, distinguished above them all for the energy 
of style in which he could convey his and their own 
strong conceptions. When such men came to know each 
other, and to know their adversaries, to feel the full con- 
sciousness of their own power, it was utterly impossible 
that they could ever be rebuked into submission, or ever 
be driven back into their colonial allegiance. 

The succeeding year re-assembled them in that con- 
gress of 1776, destined to form an aera in history, and 
which is still without an equal or a rival, among all the 
public bodies which have swayed the fate of nations. 
They soon perceived that this colonial and proscribed 
existence was no longer tolerable, and that the hour had 
now come when all their strength was to be summoned 
up, for a final renunciation of the dominion of England. 
To announce and to vindicate this determination, was 
assigned to Jefferson, who then composed that state pa- 
per, which has given to its author so memorable a 
celebrity, under the name of the declaration of indepen- 
dence. 

It is a decisive proof of the consideration which he 
enjoyed in congress, that in selecting five of their most 
distinguished members for the solemn purpose of com- 
posing this instrument, Jefferson, although only thirty- 
three years of age, and one of the youngest members of 
congress, received the greatest number of votes, and of 
course presided over the committee. When they met, 
they delegated to Jefferson and John Adams the task of 
preparing the sketch of it — and then, after some mutual 
expressions from each, that the other should perform it, 
Jefferson yielded to the wishes of his elder colleague. 
He then presented it to the committee, by whom only a 
few slight and verbal alterations were made, at the sug- 
gestion of Franklin and Adams; but in its progress 
through congress, it underwent several modifications. 
But the changes are comparatively so few, that, in all 
literary justice, the authorship of it must be ascribed to 
Jefferson. 



JEFFERSON. 237 

The declaration of independence is among the noblest 
productions of the human intellect. It stands apart, alike 
the first example, and the great model of its species— of 
that simple eloquence, worthy of conveying to the world 
and to posterity, the deep thoughts and the stern pur- 
poses of a proud, yet suffering nation. It contains no- 
thing new, for the grave spirits of that congress were 
too intent on their great work to aspire after ambitious 
novelties. But it embodies the eternal truths which lie 
at the foundation of all free governments. It announces 
with singular boldness and self-possession, their wrongs, 
and their determination to redress them. It sustains that 
purpose in a tone of such high, and manly, and generous 
enthusiasm — it breathes around an atmosphere of so 
clear and fresh an elevation, and then it concludes with 
such an heroic self-devotion, that it is impossible even 
at this distant day to hear it without a thrill to the soul. 
It seems like the gushing out of an oppressed, but still 
unconquered spirit; the voice of a wounded nation, un- 
.subdued even in its agony. They have at last n\et;— the 
genuine descendants of the northern pilgrims, of Penn, 
and of Raleigh ; they have come from the far extremes 
of climate, of tastes, and of manners, to this the common 
battle field, for the great principles of freedom, equally 
dear to them all. They feel untamed within them the 
adventurous spirit which first planted their race on this 
desert; and they bring to this desperate struggle the 
stubborn devotedness of purpose, the unyielding calm- 
ness of resolution, and the impetuous passions infused 
with the blood of their ancestry. But the chivalry with 
which these ancestors threw themselves on the ocean, 
to leave their homes and to make their country, was 
even less heroic than this proud defiance to the unbroken 
power of England. Their fathers came here, because 
they would not endure the intolerance they left behind, 
and they brought with them the stern, uncompromising 
temper, which they had shared with the roused spirit of 
England, during that tempest in which the common- 
wealth was established and overthrown. It could not be 
that such men would long obey the dominion of stran- 
gers ; or that, having built up their sequestered place of 
refuge, where they might breathe to God their vows in 



238 JEFFERSON. 

their own sincere simplicity, and lie in the sunny spotf 
which they had hewed out of the wilderness, beyond the 
reach of the cold shade of power, they would ever sub- 
mit to see their harvests reaped by the hands which had 
driven them into exile. At the first signal of oppres- 
sion, they had started into resistance Their early re- 
verses only hardened the temper they could not subdue, 
and now, they stand so erect in the desperation of their 
fortunes, so young, so weak, so lonely, — yet even in that 
moment of danger their voice is as firm, their demeanour 
as lofty, as in the earliest glow of their prosperity ; and 
after reciting their wrongs in the tone rather of a con- 
queror than a suppliant, they renounce for ever the do- 
minion which had ceased to deserve their allegiance, 
and then raise the standard of their own young freedom, 
to perish for it, or to perish with it. Their success has 
consecrated that standard to after times, and in every 
land where men have struggled against oppression, their 
dreams have been of that declaration of independence, 
which is now the magna charta of humanity. 

In the September following, he was appointed a com- 
missioner to France, in conjunction with Franklin and 
Deane; but in consequence of the state of his family, he 
declined accepting it, and having resigned his seat in 
congress, was elected a member of the house of dele- 
gates of Virginia, which met in October, 1776. While 
there, he was appointed, with Wythe, Pendleton, Lee, 
and Mason, to prepare a code of laws for that state. Of 
these distinguished associates, one died in the progress 
of the work, and another withdrew from it, so that the 
burthen and the glory of this service belong principally 
to Jefferson. After being occupied with it for more than 
two years, he presented to the legislature in June, 1779, 
the result of his labours in what is called the revised 
code. Its object was to simplify the laws, by reducing 
into a single code, the whole body of the British statutes 
and of the common law, so far as they were applicable 
to Virginia, and the acts of the state legislature. This 
mere revision could have been accomplished by ordinary 
jurists, but that which stamps the work with the seal 
of his peculiar genius, was the adaptation of the laws of 
Virginia to its new political condition. It was evident 



J 



JEFFERSON. 239 

that as no form of political constitution can be perma- 
nent unless su stained by a corresponding legislation, it 
was necessary to re-adjust the foundations of the com- 
monwealth, and more especially to modify the laws 
with regard to slavery, to entails, to primogeniture, and 
to religion. 

He had begun by obtaining the passage of a law pro- 
hibiting the further importation of slaves. His plan for 
their gradual emancipation was this: — All slaves born 
after the establishment of the law, were to be free; to 
continue with their parents until a certain age, then to 
be brought up to useful callings, at the public expense, 
until the age of eighteen for females, and twenty-one for 
males, when they were to be sent with implements of 
war and husbandry, to some colony, where they should 
be protected until able to defend themselves. In the same 
spirit, the constitution which he prepared in 1783, con- 
tained a provision against the introduction of slaves, and 
for the emancipation of all born after the year 1800. 

His second measure was the abolition of entails. Go- 
vernments, which extend equal rights to all their citi- 
zens, can be best maintained by preventing any excessive 
inequality of condition among them, consistent with the 
full exercise of individual power over the fruits of in- 
dustry. The law of entail, as transferred from England, 
had so seconded the natural tendency to build up large 
fortunes, that, to use the language of Jefferson, **by ac- 
cumulating immense masses of property in single lines 
of families, it had divided our country into two distinct 
orders of nobles and plebeians." Against such tenden- 
cies, as inconsistent with the improved condition of the 
state, he succeeded in obtaining a law. 

He resisted, with equal success, another part of the 
system, which assigned an unequal distribution of for- 
tune among the members of the same family. To the 
moral sense, it seems a strange perversity to bestow on 
the oldest and strongest of any family the inheritance 
of the common parent, — that to him who needs least 
most should be given, while to the helplessness of in- 
fancy, and the inexperience of the gentler sex, are denied 
what is most necessary for their subsistence and protec- 
tion. It requires all the exigencies of a political system 



240 JEFFERSON. 

to bend the natural feelings of mankind to such an ar- 
rangement; and the moment this artificial policy ceases 
its claims, the moment it is no longer necessary to make 
one domestic despot in order to swell the number of pub- 
lic tyrants, what parent would bequeath to his children 
this inheritance of disunion and injustice ? Jefferson 
accordingly established an equal division of property 
among all the children of the same family. 

The easy naturalization of foreigners, the proportion- 
ing of punishment to crimes, and the establishment of 
common schools throughout the state, form other parts 
of his system. But there remained one great achieve- 
ment, the security of religious freedom. 

The church of England, as established in Virginia, 
required a permanent contribution for its support from 
every citizen, and a law of the state prescribed that any 
person of either sex, unless protestant dissenters exempt- 
ed by act of parliament, who omitted to attend the 
church service for one month, should be fined, and in 
default of payment, receive corporeal punishment. The 
neighbourhood of Maryland appears to have excited no 
tenderness towards the religion of that state; for if any 
person, suspected to be a catholic, refused to take cer- 
tain oaths, he was subjected to the most degrading dis- 
qualifications. To undermine this fanaticism, Jefferson 
began by procuring a suspension of the salaries of the 
clergy for one year. Other years of similar suspense 
succeeded, till at length the public sentiment was pre- 
pared for his plan, which formed originally part of the 
revised code, l)ut was not finally enacted until the year 
1786, vhen, during his absence, the care of it devolved 
on the kindred mind of him who was equally worthy to 
be his friend in all stations, and his successor in the 
highest, James Madison. The preamble of this law ex- 
plains its motives with a nervous eloquence. " Our civil 
rights," it asserts, " have no dependence on our religious 
opinions, more than our opinions in physics or geometry; 
that therefore the proscribing every citizen as unworthy 
of public confidence, by laying upon him an incapacity 
of being called to the offices of trust or emolument, un- 
less he profess or renounce this or that religious opinion, 
is depriving him injuriously of those privileges and 



JTEFFERSOK. 2il 

advantages, lo which, in common with his fellow citi- 
zens, he has a natural right; that it tends also to corrupt 
the principles of that very religion it is meant to en- 
courage, by bribing with a monopoly of worldly honours 
and emoluments, those who will externally profess and 
conform to it." And accordingly the law declares, 
" That no man shall be compelled to frequent or support 
any religious worship, place, or ministry, whatsoever, 
nor shall he be enforced, restrained, molested, or bur- 
thened in his body or goods, nor shall otherwise suffer 
on account of his religious opinions; but that all men 
shall be free to profess, and by argument to maintain, 
their opinion in matters of religion, and that the same 
shall in no wise diminish, enlarge, or affect their civil 
capacities." 

On completing the revised code, he was elected in 
the year 1779, governor of Virginia, which place he held 
for two years. About that period, Mr. Marbois, of the 
French legation, being desirous of collecUTtg informa- 
tion with regard to the United States, prepared certain 
queries, a copy of which he addressed to a member of 
congress from each of the states. The member from 
Virginia, requested Jefferson to answer these inquiries. 
This he accordingly did, in the year 1781, and enlarged 
his observations in the year 1782, when a few copies 
were printed for the use of his friends ; but it was not 
until the year 1787, that the work appeared in its pre- 
sent form, under the unassuming title of ''Notes on Vir- 
ginia." A translation into French, by the abbe Morellet, 
was printed at Paris in the same year. It professes to 
be an answer to Mr. Marbois's queries, in the order in 
which they were presented, and to give the outlines of 
the history, geography, and general statistics of Virgi- 
nia. But it is not so much in the details of the work, 
though these are perfectly well digested, as in the free 
and manly sense, the fine philosophical temper, and the 
liberal feeling which pervade it, that consists its princi- 
pal attraction. Constitutions, laws, the natnre and con- 
sequences of domestic slavery, are all discussed with an 
impartiality which displays the independent spirit of the 
writer. Here too he overthrew the idle fancy of Buffon 

X 



242 JEFFERSON. 

as to the inferiority of the animal creation of the neur 
world. 

On leaving the government of Virginia, he was ap- 
pointed a minister plenipotentiary, to unite with those 
already in Europe, in negotiating a peace between the 
United States and England ; but at the moment of em- 
barking, intelligence arrived of the signature of that 
treaty. He returned to congress in 1783, and in the fol- 
lowing year, was sent to Europe to join Franklin and 
John Adams, as plenipotentiaries, to arrange with the 
several powers of Europe, their future commercial rela- 
tions with the United States. They framed a treaty with 
Prussia only, after which, Jefferson visited England for 
a few weeks, in order to assist in an effort, which proved 
abortive, to make a treaty with that power. On the re- 
turn of Franklin, he was appointed his successor as 
minister plenipotentiary to France, where he remained 
for several years. During his residence in Paris, his 
public duties were chiefly confined to the details of the 
commercial intercourse between the two countries, and 
the diligent performance of these left him leisure for the 
cultivation of every species of liberal knowledge!. 

He returned from France in November, ir89, on a 
visit to his family, but instead of resuming his place, he 
yielded to the request of general Washington, and in 
April, ir90, accepted the office of secretary of state, 
under the new constitution. Here he soon evinced, that 
in enlarging his ac(][uirements, he had lost none of his 
practical sagacity as a statesman. His department was 
in fact to be created, our diplomatic relations under the 
new government to i)e established, and the general ar- 
rangement of our intercourse with foreign nations to be 
organized. Then arose the difficulties growing out of 
the French revolution, and it was his peculiar duty to 
sustain the rights of the country against the pretensions 
of England and France, and to vindicate the neutrality of 
our government. The interest of these discussions has 
passed with the occasion, as more recent facts and long- 
er experience have in some degree superseded them; 
but there are three of his public labours at that period, 
entitled to particular remembrance. The first is his re- 
port on foreign commerce, which anticipates the liberal 



JEFFERSON. 243 

policy of the present day as the true basis of our com- 
mercial intercourse — perfect equality to all who will re- 
ciprocate it, and restrictions only in self-defence against 
the restrictions of others. The second is his corre- 
spondence with the British minister on the mutual com- 
plaints of the two countries — which combines with great 
force of reasoning, and perspicuity of style, a tone of 
dignified courtesy rarely seen in similar papers. The 
third is his report on weights and measures, which pre- 
sents in a clear and condensed form, all the knowledge 
of that day on this interesting and intricate question. 

He withdrew from this station on the first of January, 
1794, and resumed his tranquil pursuits at home. These, 
however, he was not long suffered to enjoy, for in the 
year 1797, he was elected vice-president of the United 
States. While in this office, not content to remain in- 
active in any station, he composed the system of rules 
known by the name of " Jefferson's Manual ;" a dige«t 
of the parliamentary practice of England, with such mo- 
llifications as had been adopted by the senate, or are 
suggested by the difference between the British and 
-American legislatures. This small volume has so con- 
densed the rules of legislative proceedings, as to super- 
sede, except for occasional reference, the works of Grey 
and Hatsell, and the other treatises on the same subject, 
and is the standard authority in congress and the state 
legislatures. 

About this time he was elected president of the Ame- 
rican Philosophical Society, having been previously a 
member of the French Institute, the most learned body 
perhaps in Europe; distinctions which were richly earn- 
ed by the variety of his acquirements in science. 

His services were now to receive their highest reward 
by his advancement to the presidency of the United 
States, on the 4th of March, 1801, and his re-election in 
1805. Of the political acts of his administration it is 
unnecessary to speak, as they have scarcely yet passed 
the shadowy confine which separates the passions of 
party from the deliberate judgment of history ; and it 
vyill be more grateful to seek in the annals of his chief 
magistracy what may endear it to science and philanthro- 
py. Its great ornament undoubtedly is the acquisition 



244 JEFFERSON. 

of Louisiana. This was essentially a measure charac- 
teristic of him, in the true spirit of his own policy, a 
peaceful and fair exchange of equivalents between states 
for their mutual advantage. The ordinary additions of 
territory among nations come in the train of conquest, 
and are yielded with reluctance and humiliation. It was 
reserved for Jefferson by a simple act of honest policy, 
too distinguished for its rarity, by a negotiation desti- 
tute of all the common attractions of successful artifice 
or violence, to double the extent, and to secure the tran- 
quillity of his country. Nor were the usual temptations 
to violence wanting. The obstruction of the right of 
deposit at New Orleans had roused the indignation of 
the country, and a proposal was made in congress to 
seize that city. But this excitement yielded to the more 
temperate counsels of Jefferson, who thought with Nu- 
ma, that no blood should be shed at the rites of the god 
Terminus ; and who, by this addition to the mass of 
human happiness, by this winning over to civilization a 
country destined to be filled by a free and happy people, 
obtained a far purer and nobler glory, than could be 
yielded by all the victories achieved in the conquest of 
Louisiana. 

Having obtained peaceful possession of it, he found a 
gratification equally characteristic, in directing several 
voyages of discovery through various parts of it. 

Of these, the first in order and importance, was the 
expedition of Lewis and Clarke to the Pacific Ocean. 
To this expedition, were added those of major Pike to 
the sources of the Mississippi, and afterwards to the 
Arkansas, of colonel Freeman up the Red river, and 
Messrs. Hunter and Dunbar up the Washita. The par- 
ticulars of these journies were conveyed to the public in 
many works, which, containing, as they do, descriptionn 
of regions, the greater part of which had never been 
described, nor even visited by civilized men, produced 
large acquisitions as well to geography as to the other 
sciences, of all which, the merit is especially due to the 
projector of them. 

But a service to science not less brilliant, and even 
more pormanont, was the establishment of the military 
academv at West Pt&int. To war in every shape, as thp 



JEttEHsON. 245 

Nvorst mode oF redressing injuries, and as multiplying 
the evils it professes to remedy, his repugnance was in- 
vincible. But even to his philanthropic spirit, the philo- 
sophy of war, the knowledge of those combinations 
which give to intellect the sway over brutal force, the 
sciences which, though perverted to human destruction, 
are susceptible of a worthier destination ; all these pre- 
sented attractioijs, which, as a statesman, or a lover of 
science, it was difficult to resist. Accordingly, on fixing 
the peace establishment of the army in 1802, the engi- 
neers retained in service were assembled at West Point, 
to form a military academy, and placed under the charge 
of his friend colonel Williams. This school has since 
expanded with the growing wants of the nation, till it 
has become one of the most distinguished seminaries of 
military science in the world, and its accomplished dis- 
ciples are now devoting to the improvement of the coun- 
try, the talents which are equally ready for its defence. 
But the merit of laying its foundation, is due to the 
liberal and pacific counsels of Jcfi'erson. 

At the expiration of his second term of service, he 
declined a re-election, and withdrawing to his farm at 
Monticello, resumed the favourite studies and occupa- 
tions from which his public duties had so long withheld 
him. On this spot, endeared by attachments which had 
descended with it from his ancestors, and scarcely less 
cherished from the embellishments with which his own 
taste had adorned it; on this elevated seclusion, of which 
more than forty years ago Chastelleux had said, " it 
seemed, as if from his youth, he had placed his mind as 
he had his house, upon a high situation, from which he 
might contemplate the universe ;" he appears to have 
realized all that the imagination can conceive of a happy 
retirement, that blessing after which all aspire, but so 
few are destined to enjoy. There, surrounded by all that 
can give lustre or enjoyment to existence, an exalted re- 
putation, universal esteem, the means of indulging in the 
studies most congenial to him, a numerous and affec- 
tionate family, enlivened by the pilgrimage of strangers 
who hastened to see what they had so long venerated, a 
correspondence that still preserved his sympathies with 
the world he had left, blessed with all the consolations 
X 2 



246 JONES. 

which gently slope the decline of life, he gave up to phi- 
losophical repose the remainder of that existence al- 
ready protracted beyond the ordinary limits assigned to 
men. But it was not in his nature to be unoccupied, and 
his last years were devoted to an enterprise every way 
worthy of his character. Aware how essentially free 
institutions depend on the diffusion of knowledge, he 
endeavoured to establish in his native state a seminary 
of learning; and his success may be seen in the rising 
prosperity of the University of Virginia, his last and 
crowning work. 

The time, however, had arrived, when his cares and 
his existence were to end. His health had been through 
life singularly robust; as the vigorous frame which na- 
ture had bestowed on him was preserved by habits of 
great regularity and temperance. But for some months 
previous to his death he was obviously declining, and at 
length, the combination of disease and decay terminated 
his life, on the 4th day of July, 1826, in the 84th year of 
his age. He died with the firmness and self-possession 
native to his character, and the last hours of his exist- 
ence were cheered and consecrated by the return of that 
day, when, of all others, it was most fit that he should 
die — the birth-day of his country. He felt that this was 
not his appropriate resting-place, and he gave up to God 
his enfeebled frame and his exhausted spirit, on the an- 
niversary almost of that hour, which, half a century 
before, had seen him devoting the mature energies of his 
mind, and the concentrated affections of his heart, to the 
freedom of his country. 



JONES, Paul, one of the most enterprising and re- 
solute mariners America had, during the contest with 
Great Britain, was born in Galway county, Scotland, in 
1747, and could lay claims to but humble parentage. 
His father had been a gardener to the earl of Selkirk. 
His original name was John Paul. The son received 
the same name, and was taken into the family of the earl 



JONES. 247 

of Selkirk, and was there educated under a private tutor. 
At the age of fifteen, from what cause is not at present 
known, he took up with a sea-faring life, and after a re- 
gular apprenticeship, became master of a vessel engaged 
in the West India trade. In one of his voyages to To- 
bago, a mutiny arose in the ship, which was quelled, but 
not without the death of one of the mutineers. When 
arrived at Tobago, he delivered himself up to trial, and 
was acquitted. After acquittal, he returned to England, 
and was threatened with imprisonment, in order for a 
new trial. Feeling, probably, the injustice of such a 
measure, he quitted his country, and took refuge in 
America. He arrived here at a most important period. 
The colonies were on the eve of a separation from the 
parent state. The conflict had begun, and Jones, under 
his assumed name, having received a lieutenant's com- 
mission, embarked on the expedition against New Pro- 
vidence, under commodore Hopkins. 

At his return, he was appointed to command a sloop 
of twelve guns, and a short time after, to a ship of eigh- 
teen guns. In this he cruised, in 1778, around the coasts 
of England and Scotland, made a descent upon the coast 
of Scotland, near the earl of Selkirk's house, and carried 
off the family plate, which was afterwards restored. He 
landed also at V/hitehaven, in Cumberlandshire, but 
without causing material injury to the inhabitants. In 
cruising, the same year, off the Irish coast, he discover- 
ed a British vessel, by the name of the Drake, in the 
harbour of Waterford, and challenged her to combat. 
The challenge she accepted, and was beaten. 

In the summer of 1779, a squadron was fitted out, over 
which Mr. Jones was appointed commander. He sailed 
in the Bonne Homme Richard, of forty guns, and four 
hundred and fifteen men. This squadron sailed from 
France on the 14th of August, and was successful in 
making a variety of captures, both of merchant vessels, 
and vessels of war. In a gale, he was separated from 
the rest of his forces, but was rejoined by them about 
the first of September. He then cruised about the north- 
east coast of Scotland, and formed the daring plan of 
levying a contribution upon the town of Leith. This was 
to be effected by putting himself off as the commander 



248 VONIfcS. 

of a British squadron, till his plan could be put in exe- 
cution, and then to demand a ransom of the town for 
one hundred thousand pounds, on the alternative of suf- 
fering a total destruction of the town. This deception 
was discovered, just as the squadron had hove to before 
the town of Leith. On this, he immediately put to sea, 
and on the 22nd of September, arrived at FJamborough 
head. 

When cruising off Flamborough head, about two 
leagues from the shore, on the 22nd September, at two 
o'clock, P. M. he descried the Baltic fleet, for which he 
had been so long on the look-out, under convoy. The 
fleet was convoyed by a frigate and a sloop of war. 
Preparations were immediately made for action. 

When the hostile ships had sufficiently neared, their 
respective captains hailed each other, and commenced 
the scene of carnage, at moon-rise, about a quarter before 
eight, at pistol-shot distance. The English ship gave 
the first fire from her upper and quarter deck, which 
Jones returned with alacrity. Three of his lower deck 
guns on the starboard side, burst in the gun-room, and 
killed the men stationed at them; in consequence of 
which, orders were given not to fire the other three eigh- 
teen pounders mounted on that deck, lest a similar mis- 
fortune should occur. This prevented him from the 
advantage he expected to have derived from them in the 
then existing calm. Having to contend alone with both 
the enemy's ships, and the Bonne Homme Richard hav- 
ing received several shot, between v/ind and water, he 
grappled with the larger vessel, to render her force use- 
less, and to prevent firing from the smaller one. In 
effecting this object, the superior manoeuvring of the 
larger ship embarrassed him greatly. He succeeded, 
however, in laying his ship athwart the hawse of his 
opponent's. His mizen shrouds struck the jib-boom of 
the enemy, and hung for some time; but they soon gave 
way, when both fell along side of each other, head to 
«tern. The fluke of the enemy's spare anchor hooked 
the Bonne Homme Richard's quarter, both ships being 
BO closely grappled fore and aft, that the ^muzzles of their 
respective guns touched each other's sides. The captain 
of the enemy's smaller ship judiciously ceased firing, as 



JONES. 249 

soon as captain Jones had effected his design, lest he 
should assist to injure his consort. In this situation, the 
crews of both ships continued the eng-agement for seve- 
ral hours. Many of the guns of the American ship 
were rendered useless, while those of the English re- 
mained manageable. Some time after, a brave fellow, 
posted in the Bonne Homme Richard's main top, suc- 
ceeded in silencing a number of the enemy's guns. This 
man, with a lighted match, and a basket filled with hand 
grenades, advanced along the main yard, until he was 
over the enemy's deck. Being enabled to distinguish 
objects by the light of the moon, wherever he discover- 
ed a number of persons together, he dropped a hand 
grenade among them. He succeeded in dropping seve- 
ral through the scuttles of the ship ; these set fire to the 
cartridge of an eighteen-pounder, which communicated 
successively to other cartridges, disabled all the officers 
and men, and rendered useless all the guns abaft the 
mainmast. The enemy's ship was, many times, set on 
fire, by the great quantity of combustible matter thrown 
on board, and with much difficulty and toil the flames 
were as often extinguished. Towards the close of the 
action, all the guns of the Bonne Homme Richard were 
silenced, except four on the forecastle which were com- 
manded by the purser, who was dangerously wounded. 
Jones immediately took their command on himself. The 
two guns next the enemy were well served. The seamen 
succeeded in removing another from the opposite side. 
Hence, only three guns were used towards the close of 
the action on board of Jones's ship. The musketry and 
swivels, however, did great execution, as did also the 
incessant fire from the round-tops, in consequence of 
which, the enemy were several times driven from their 
quarters. 

About ten o'clock, a report was in circulation between 
decks, that Jones and the chief officers were killed, that 
the ship had four or five feet water in her hold, and was 
sinking. The crew became alarmed, and the gunner, 
the carpenter, and the master-at-arms, were deputed to 
go on deck, and beg quarters of the enemy. They ascend- 
ed the quarter deck, and whilst in the act of fulfilling 
their mission, were discovered by the commodore, crying; 



250 JON»S. 

for quarters. Hearing the voice of Jones, calling, " what 
rascals are these; shoot them; kill them," the carpenter 
and master-at-arms succeeded in getting below. The 
commodore threw both his pistols at the gunner, who 
had descended to the foot of the gang-way ladder, and 
his skull was thereby fractured. The man lay there until 
the action was over, after which his skull was trepanned, 
and he recovered. While the action continued to rage 
with relentless fury, both ships took fire, in consequence 
of which the crews were obliged to cease from firing, and 
exert themselves in extinguishing the flames, in which 
their respective vessels were enveloped, and thus prevent 
the certain destruction of the combatants. The fire being 
extinguished, the captain of the hostile ship asked, if 
Jones had struck, as he had heard a cry for quarters. 
Jones replied, that his colours would never descend, till 
he was fairly beaten. The action recommenced with 
renewed vigour. Shortly after, the Alliance, captain 
Landais, came up within pistol-shot, and began a heavy 
firing, injuring both friend and foe; nor did the firing 
cease from her, notwithstanding repeated hailing, until 
the signal of recognition was fully displayed on board 
the Bonne Homme Richard. Nearly one hundred of the 
prisoners, previously captured, had been suffered to 
ascend the deck by Jones's master-at-arms, during the 
confusion occasioned by the cry for quarters, owing to a 
belief that the vessel was sinking. To prevent danger 
from this circumstance, they were stationed at the 
pumps, where they remained in active employ during 
the remainder of the battle. 

The sides of the Bonne Homme Richard were nearly 
stove in, her helm had become unmanageable : a splinter- 
ed piece of timber alone supported the poop. A brisk 
firing, however, was kept up from her three guns on the 
quarter deck. Their shot raked the enemy fore and aft, 
cutting up his rigging and spars, so that his mainmast 
had only the yard-arm of the Bonne Homme Richard 
for his support. The enemy's fire subsided by degrees, 
and when its guns could no longer be brought to bear, 
he struck his colours. 

At this juncture, his mainmast went by the board. 
Meu.tejiftjjt Dale was left below, where being no longer 



JONES. 251 

able to rally his men, he, although severely wounded, 
superintended the working of the pumps. Notwithstand- 
ing every effort, the hold of the Bonne Homme Richard 
was half full of water, when the enemy surrendered. 
After the action, the wind blew fresh, and the flames on 
board the Richard spread anew, nor were they extin- 
guished until day-light appeared. In the meantime all 
the ammunition was brought on deck to be thrown over- 
board, in case of necessity. The enemy had nailed his 
flag to the mast at the beginning of the action; and after 
the captain had called for quarters, he could not prevail 
upon his men to bring down his colours, as they ex- 
pressed their dread of the American rifles. He was, 
therefore, obliged to do that service himself. In taking 
possession of the enemy, three of Jones's men were kill- 
ed after the surrender, for which an apology was after- 
wards made. The captured vessel proved to be his 
Britannic majesty's ship Serapis, captain Pearson, rating 
forty-four, but mounting fifty carriage guns. The Bonne 
Homme Richard had one hundred and sixty-five killed, 
and one hundred and thirty-seven wounded and missing. 
The Serapis one hundred and thirty-seven killed, and 
seventy-six wounded. All hands were removed on board 
the prize, together with such articles as could be saved, 
and about ten o'clock, A. M. the next day, the Bonne 
Homme Richard sunk. 

Shortly after this contest had terminated, captain Co- 
tincau in the Pallas, engaged the enemy's lesser ship, 
which struck after a severe engagement of two hours 
and a half. She proved to be the Countess of Scarbo- 
rough. Her braces were all cut away, as well as her 
running rigging and topsail sheets. Seven of her guns 
were dismounted; four men killed, and twenty wounded. 
More than fifteen hundred persons witnessed the san- 
guinary conflict from Flamborough head. 

On his arrival in America, congress passed an act, 
dated April 14, 1781, in which he was thanked, in the. 
most flattering manner, "for the zeal, the prudence, and 
the intrepidity, with which he sustained the honour of 
the American flag; for his bold and successful enter- 
prise, with a view to redeem from captivity the citizens 
of America, who had fallen into the hands of the EngU»b ; 



252 KIBKWOOD. 

and for the eminent services by which he had added lustre 
to his own character, and the arms of America." A 
committee of congress was also of opinion, " that he de- 
served a gold medal in remembrance of his services.'* 

Jones seems to have been a man capable of the most 
daring deeds, both from his bravery and his arts of de- 
ception. An instance of the latter occurs in a case of 
attack upon an English frigate, superior to him in force, 
off the island of Bermuda. Happening to fall in with 
this frigate, he was immediately hailed, when he return- 
ed the name of a ship of the British navy. This satisfied 
the English captain, who, as the sea was rough and as 
it was near night, ordered him to keep company till the 
morrow, when he would send his boat aboard. But to- 
morrow never dawned upon the hapless Englishman, for 
Jones, getting up within pistol-shot distance, discharged 
a broadside into him, and immediately discharged the 
other, when the English vessel sunk with every soul on 
board her. Jones was then in the United States frigate 
Ariel. On peace taking place, he returned to Europe, 
and going to St. Petersburgh, was honoured with a com- 
mission in the empress Catharine's fleet, when the Eng- 
lish under him refusing to serve, he was traiisferred to 
a command under the prince of Nassau, then acting 
against the Turkish fleet. Here, by a successful strata- 
gem, he put the Turkish fleet into the power of the 
prince, who wantonly set it on fire, and thus barbarously 
involved the crews in one general destruction. On 
Jones's retirement from the service, he went to France, 
and after living through the first stages of the revolution^ 
died in the city of Paris in the year 179 2. 



kiKKWOOD, Robert, a brave and meritorious 6iS- 
cer of the Delaware line, in the army of the revolution, 
whose character and services have not received that no- 
tice to which they are entitled. We embrace, therefore, 
with pleasure, the opportunity, so far as it lies in our 
power, to preserve the memory of one, "who, though from 



KIRKWOOD. 253 

accident not elevated to conspicuous rank, nor hitherto 
decorated with eminent historical distinction, was the 
pride of his native state, and an ornament to the army 
that defended American independence. We doubt not 
there are many that held subordinate stations in the 
army of the revolution, who have not received that meed 
of renown which they merited; and there can be no task 
more delightful to a grateful posterity, nor more worthy 
of a patriot, than to search out the rolls of honourable 
exploit, and to promulgate it to our country. Whether 
we consider the intrinsic gallantry of our revolutionary 
heroes and statesmen, the sufferings they endured, or the 
inestimable value of the blessings they obtained, no na- 
tion has prouder examples to appeal to than the Ame- 
rican people ; no nation was ever called on by stronger 
obligations of gratitude, to honour their characters and 
to consecrate their memories. 

Robert Kirkwood was a native of the state of Dela- 
ware. He was born in Newcastle county, near the vil- 
lage of Newark, celebrated for an excellent academy, in 
which he received a classical education. On the termi- 
nation of his literary studies, he engaged in farming, and 
continued his agricultural pursuits until hostilities took 
place between Great Britain and the colonies. In Janua- 
ry, 1776, when it became obvious that the war would be 
serious and bloody, when unconditional submission to 
absolute power or resistance were the alternatives, the 
intelligent and patriotic mind of Kirkwood did not hesi- 
tate as to the proper course. He entered as lieutenant 
in the regiment of his native state, commanded by colo- 
nel Hazlet, and with it joined the army under Washing- 
ton at New York. He was present throughout the 
campaign at Long Island and its neighbourhood, and 
partook in the disasters that ensued from the misfortunes 
of our troops in that quarter. On Washington's return to 
the Jerseys, when victory was recalled to the American 
standard at Trenton and Princeton, he participated in 
his country's triumphs. In the engagement at Prince- 
ton, colonel Hazlet fell, deeply lamented ; and the year's 
enlistment of his men being expired, the regiment was 
re-organized early in 1777, under colonel Hall, since 
governor of Delaware. Kirkwood now received the 



254 KIRKWOOD. 

commission of captain in this regiment, and served as 
such throughout the campaigns of 1777-78 and '79, be- 
ing concerned in every battle of importance fought dur- 
ing these years. 

In 1780, general Gates took with him the Delaware 
regiment and the Maryland line, to South Carolina, and 
they were actively employed under the command of lieu- 
tenant-colonel Vaughan and major Patton, at the battle 
of Camden, in which general Gates sustained a serious 
reverse of fortune, and the American army was totally 
defeated. In this disaster, the Delaware regiment was 
reduced from eight, to two companies, containing to- 
gether about 195 men; the commanding officers, with 
the greater part of the regiment, being made prisoners 
i)y the British. The two companies that remained, con- 
tinued under the command of captains Kirkwood and 
Jacquet, the latter of whom yet lives near Wilmington, 
Delaware, beloved and esteemed for his virtues and pa- 
triotism. Under these officers the remains of the regi- 
ment served until the close of the war; and when the 
peculiar circumstances of this corps are considered, the 
reason will be discovered why an officer so meritorious 
as captain Kirkwood, was not promoted, notwithstand- 
ing promotions as high as colonels were made in the 
lines of several states. The state of Delaware had but 
one regiment in the army; and as it was expected, from 
time to time, that colonel Vaughan and major Patton, 
or both, would be exchanged, Kirkwood could not be 
promoted in the line of this state; and in the lines of 
other states, promotions took place among themselves. 
Besides, the regiment was so reduced in numbers, as not 
to require an officer of a higher rank than captain. In 
another line, or under different circumstances, there can 
be no doubt Kirkwood's gallantry, zeal, and uniform 
devotion to the cause, would have been rewarded with a 
higher rank, and a more conspicuous standing in the eye 
of the nation. 

In the southern campaign the two companies were 
attached as light infantry to Lee's celebrated legion, and 
Lee placed great confidence in them. In the battles of 
the Cowpens, in which the corps of the marauding 
Tarleton was cut to pieces; at Guilford, where lord 



KIRKWOOD. 255 

Cornwallis's army received a shock from which it never 
recovered; at Camden, the Eutaws, and other places, 
where victory became familiar to the American soldier, 
Kirkvvood exhibited his usual traits of gallantry. At 
the Cowpens, he v^^as at the head of the first platoon of 
colonel Howard's memorable corps; and when the colo- 
nel was ordered to charge, Kirkwood advanced ten paces 
in front of the corps, charged with his espontoon, and 
called to his men to come on! His example, said general 
Morgan, who used to relate this anecdote, inspired the 
whole corps. 

The southern army finally drove the enemy fi-om the 
Carolinas, taking successively nine of their forts or for- 
tified places. Captain Kirkwood was always among the 
first in the enemy's lines or works, and repeatedly re- 
ceived the thanks and applause of generals Greene, 
Morgan and Smallwood. This distinguished enter- 
prise achieved a high reputation for himself, and ac- 
quired, by the co-operation of his brother officers and 
soldiers, a peculiar renown for the gallant remnant of the 
Delaware regiment. At the termination of the war, 
through the solicitation and influence of general Wash- 
ington, he was brevetted a major, and he returned to his 
native state, where he was cordially received, and grate- 
fully v/elcomed by his numerous friends and admiring 
fellow citizens. 

Major Kirkwood afterwards emigrated to the state of 
Ohio, and settled on his lands nearly opposite to Wheel- 
ing, in the Indian country. This was an adventurous 
attempt, and would have probably intimidated any but 
the firm mind of a man to whom danger was familiar: 
for he was almost the only white person on that side of 
the river He had left his family in Delaware, and com- 
menced the building of a log cabin. It was not long, 
however, before his military skill and intrepidity were 
wanting to defend his life and property. The Indians 
approached at night with design to attack him. Being 
assisted by an officer and some soldiers, who Jiad crossed 
the river from Wheeling, he ordered them to lie down, 
and instructed them, when the Indians advanced, to rise 
up suddenly, fire all at once, and then rush on. The 
stratagem was executed, and succeeded : the Indians 



256 KIRKWOOD. 

advanced boldly, not suspecting danger, and several be- 
ing killed, the rest fled. 

But his country's danger once mare summoned him, 
and for the last time, tathe field; and the veteran soldier 
obeyed the call with alacrity. The vi^hole west was in 
alarm from the incursions of the savages, and an army 
being raised by the government of the United States to 
repel them, and placed under the command of general 
St. Clair, Kirkwood resumed his sword as the oldest 
captain of the oldest regiment of the United States. In 
the decisive defeat of St. Clair, by the Miami Indians, 
on the 4th November, 1792, Kirkwood fell on the field 
of battle, fighting with his usual heroism at the head of 
his detachment. It was the thirty-third time he had 
risked his life for his country, and he died, as he had 
lived, brave, patriotic, and full of honour. 

Major Kirkwood's character and qualities are always 
spoken of, by those who knew him, in exalted language. 
General Lee, in his memoirs, mentions him in terms of 
approbation and distinction. Colanel Jacob Slough, of 
Lancaster,. Pennsylvania, who was his intimate associate 
and brother officer in St. Clair's arrr^y, in a letter to his 
friend, a representative in congress from the state of 
Maryland, written in May, 1824, states some particulars 
relative to his death. 

"I have received the letter you honoured me with," 
says colonel Slough, " on the subject of the services and 
virtues of my much-lamented friend, Kirkwood, and will, 
with pleasure, narrate them. Having heard many of the 
officers of the revolution, wha knew him, when he be- 
longed to Smallwood's, afterwards Howard's, regiment, 
speak of him in the most exalted terms, I becam^e much 
prepossessed in his favour long before I knew him; and 
when I found him a captain in general St. Clair's army, 
I took pains to become acquainted with him^ I soon 
discovered that this desire was mutual, and in a little 
time, we became fast friends ; so much so, that when not 
on duty, w^ were generally together. I passed many 
nights with him on guard, and benefitted greatly from 
his experience, as a man of honour, a soldier, and a po- 
lice officer. Captain Kirkwood had been sick for several 
days previous to the 4th November, but was always 



KNOX. 257 

ready for duty. At the dawn of day that morning, after 
the advanced guard was attacked and driven in, I saw 
him cheering his men, and by his example inspiring con- 
fidence in all who saw him. When he received the 
wound, I cannot say. I was at a distance from him, and 
busily engaged in attending to my own duty. About 
eight o'clock, I received a severe wound in my right 
arm, just above the elbow. As it bled very much, and 
our surgeon was in the rear, I was advised to go and 
have it dressed. On my way to rejoin my company, I 
found my friend Kirkwood lying against the root of a 
tree, shot through the abdomen, and in great pain. After 
calling to the surgeon, and commending him to his care, 
I saw no more of him. until the retreat was ordered. I 
then ran to him, and proposed having him carried off. 
He said no. ' I am dying; save yourself if you can ; and 
leave me to my fate ; but, as the last act of friendship 
you can confer on me, blow miy brains out. I see the 
Indians coming, and God knows how they will treat 
me!* You can better judge of my feelings than I can 
describe them. I shook him by the hand, and left him 
to his fate." 

Thus fell by the hands of the savages, the hero who 
had survived the most eventful battles of the revolution, 
where he had faced danger and death in every shape. 
But his example will, we trust, long live for the imita- 
tion of posterity, and his name merits a portion of that 
fame, which it belongs to Americans to award to those 
by whom the revolution was achieved. 






KNOX, Henry, major-general in the American army 
during the revolutionary war, was born in Boston, July 
25, 1750. His parents were of Scottish descent. Before 
our revolutionary war, which afforded an opportunity 
for the development of his patriotic feelings and mili- 
tary talents, he was engaged in a book store. By means 
of his early education, and this honourable employment, 
Y 2 



258 •KNOX. 

he acquired a taste for literary pursuits^ which he re^ 
tained through life. 

Young Knox gave early proofs of his attachment to 
the cause of freedom and his country. It will be recol- 
lected, that, in various parts of the state, volunteer com- 
panies were formed in 1774, with a view to awaken the 
martial spirit of the people, and as a sort of preparation 
for the contest which was apprehended. Knox was an 
officer in a military corps of this denomination, and was 
distinguished by his activity and discipline. There is 
evidence of his giving uncommon attention to military 
tactics at this period, especially to the branch of engine- 
ry and artillery, in which he afterwards so greatly ex- 
celled. 

It is also to be recorded in. proof of his predominant 
love of country, and its liberties, that he had before this 
time become connected with a very respectable family,^ 
■which adhered to the measures of the British ministry, 
and had received great promises both of honour and 
profit, if he would follow the standard of his sovereign. 
Even at this time his talents were too great to be over- 
looked ; and it was wished, if possible, to prevent him 
from attaching himself to the cause of the provincials. 
He was one of those whose departure from Boston was 
interdicted by governor Gage, soon after the affair of 
Lexington. The object of Gage was probably not so 
much to keep these eminent characters as hostages, as 
to deprive the Americans of their talents and services. 
In June, however, he found means to make his way 
through the British lines, to the American army at Cam- 
bridge. He was here received with joyful enthusiasmt 
for his knowledge of the military art, and his zeal for 
the liberties of the country, were admitted by all.^ The 
provincial congress, then convened at Watertown, imme- 
diately sent for him, and intrusted solely to him the erec- 
tion of such fortresses as might be necessary to prevent 
a sudden attack from the enemy in Boston. 

The little army of militia^ collected in and about Cam- 
bridge, In the spring of 1775, soon after the battle of 
Lexington, was without order and discipline. All was 
insubordination and confusion. General Washington did 
not arrive to take command of the troops until after this 



KNOX. 259 

period. In this state of things, Knox declined any par- 
ticular commission, though he readily directed his at- 
tention and exertions to the objects which congress 
requested. 

It was in the course of this season, and before he had 
formally undertaken the command of the artillery, that 
Knox volunteered his services to go to St. John's, in the 
province of Canada, and to bring thence to Cambridge, 
all the heavy ordnance and military stores. This hazard- 
ous enterprise he effected in a manner which astonished 
all who knew the difficulty of the service. 

Soon after his return from this fortunate expedition, 
he took command of the whole corps of the artillery of 
our army, and retained it until the close of the war. To 
him the country was chiefly indebted for the organization 
of the artillery and ordnance department. He gave it 
both form and efficiency ; and it was distinguished alike 
for its expertness of discipline and promptness of exe- 
cution. 

At the battle of Monmouth, in New Jersey, in June, 
1778, general Knox exhibited new proofs of his bravery 
and skill. Under his personal and immediate direction, 
the artillery gave great effect to the success of that m«s» 
morable day. It will be remembered, that the British 
troops were much more numerous than ours, and that 
general Lee was charged with keeping back the battalion 
he commanded from the field of battle. The situation 
of our army was most critical. General Washington 
was personally engaged in rallying and directing the 
troops in the most dangerous positions. The affair ter- 
minated in favour of our gallant army, and generals 
Knox and Wayne received the particular commendations 
of the commander in chief, the following day, in the 
orders issued on the occasion. After mentioning the 
good conduct and bravery of general Wayne, and thank- 
ing the gallant officers and men who distinguished them- 
selves, general Washington says, "he can with pleasure 
inform general Knox, and the officers of the artillery, that 
the enemy have done them the justice to acknowledge, 
that no artillery could be better served than ours. ** 

When general Greene was offered the arduous com- 
mand of the southern department, he replied to the 



260 »KNOX. 

commander in chief, " Knox is the man for this difficult 
undertaking; all obstacles vanish before him; his re- 
sources are infinite.'* "True," replied Washington, 
"and therefore I cannot part with him." 

No officer in the army, it is believed, more largely- 
shared in the affection and confidence of the illustrious 
Washington. In every action where he appeared, Knox 
was with him : at every council of war, he bore a part. 
In truth, he possessed talents and qualities, which could 
not fail to recommend him to a man of the discriminat- 
ing mind of Washington. He was intelligent, brave, pa- 
triotic, humane, honourable. Washington soon became 
sensible of his merits, and bestowed on him his esteem, 
his friendship, and confidence. 

On the resignation of major-general Benjamin Lincoln, 
Knox was appointed secretary of the war department, by 
congress, during the period of the convention. And when 
the federal government was organized in 1789, he was 
designated by president Washington for the same ho- 
nourable and responsible office. 

This office he held for about five years, enjoying the 
confidence of the president, and esteemed by all his col- 
leagues in the administration of the federal government. 
Of his talents, his integrity, and his devotion to the in- 
terests and prosperity of his country, no one had ever 
any reason to doubt. In 1794, he retired Irom office to 
a private station, followed by the esteem and love of all 
who had been honoured with his acquaintance. 

At this time he removed with his family to Thomas- 
ton, on St. George's river, in the district of Maine, two 
hundred miles north-east of Boston. He was possessed 
of extensive landed property in that part of the country, 
which had formerly belonged to general Waldo, the ma- 
ternal grandfather of Mrs. Knox. 

At the request of his fellow citizens, though unsoli- 
cited on his part, he filled a seat at the council-board of 
Massachusetts, during several years of his residence at 
Thomaston ; and the degree of doctor of laws was con- 
ferred on him by the president and trustees of Dartmouth 
college. 

The amiable virtues of the citizen and the man, were 
as conspicuous in the character of general Knox, as the 



Kosciusco. 261 

more brilliant and commanding talents of the hero and 
statesman. The afflicted and destitute were sure to 
share of his compassion and charity. " His heart was 
made of tenderness ;" and he often disregarded his own 
wishes and convenience, in kind endeavours to promote 
the interest and happiness of his friends. 

The possession of extensive property and high office, 
is too apt to engender pride and insolence. But general 
Knox was entirely exempt, both in disposition and man- 
ners, from this common frailty. Mildness ever beamed 
in his countenance; "on his tongue were the words of 
kindness;" and equanimity and generosity always miark- 
ed his intercourse with his fellow men. The poor he 
never oppressed; the more obscure citizen, we believe, 
could never complain of injustice at his hands. With 
all classes of people he dealt on the most fair and ho- 
nourable principles, and would sooner submit to a sacri- 
fice of property himself, than injure or defraud another. 

In his person, general Knox was above the common 
stature; of noble and commanding form, of manners 
elegant, conciliating and dignified. 

To the amiable qualities and mor^l excellences of 
general Knox, which have already been enumerated, we 
may justly add his prevailing disposition to piety. With 
much of the manners of the gay world, and opposed, as 
he was, to all superstition and bigotry, he might not 
appear, to those ignorant of his better feelings, to pos- 
sess religious and devout affections. But to his friends 
it was abundantly evident that he cherished exalted senti- 
ments of devotion and piety to God. He was a firm be- 
liever in the natural and moral attributes of the Deity, 
and his overruling and all-prevailing providence. 

General Knox died at Thomaston, October 25, 1806, 
aged 56 years. His death was occasioned by swallowing 
the bone of a chicken. 






KOSCIUSCO, Thaddeus, descended from an ancient 
family in the palatinate of Brescia, Lithuania proper, 



262 Kosciusco. 

received the rudiments of his education in the military- 
academy founded by Stanislaus Augustus. The com- 
mandant of that academy, prince Adam Czartorski, soon 
remarked the uncommon military genius of the youth, 
together with his predilection for the science of war, and 
in consequence, sent him into France to complete his 
studies. To the latest moments of his life, Kosciusco 
gratefully remembered the obligations which he owed 
to the bounty of his benefactor. The abject, impotent, 
and submissive situation of Poland, at that period, en- 
gendered dejection and despair in his useful breast. He 
left his country, and repaired to a foreign land, there to 
fight the battles of independence, when he found that her 
standard would not be raised in the land of his birth. 

When very young, he was informed by the voice of 
fame, that the standard of liberty had been erected in 
America; that an insulted and oppressed people had de- 
termined to be free, or perish in the attempt. His ardent 
and generous mind caught, with enthusiasm, the holy 
flame, and from that moment he became the devoted 
soldier of liberty. 

His rank in the American army afforded him no op- 
pcrtur.ity greatly to distinguish himself. But he was 
remarked, throughout his service, for all the qualities 
which adorn the human character. His heroic valour 
in the field could only be equalled by his moderation and 
affability in the walks of private life. He was idolized 
by the soldiers for his bravery, and beloved and respect- 
ed by the officers for the goodness of his heart, and the 
great qualities of his mind. 

As the companion of the immortal Washington, he 
fought bravely from the Hudson to the Potomac, from 
the shores of the Atlantic to the lakes of Canada. He 
patiently endured incredible fatigue; he acquired re- 
nown; and, what was infinitely more valuable in his 
estimation, he acquired the love and gratitude of a dis- 
enthralled nation. The flag of the United States waved 
in triumph over the American forts, and the great work 
of liberation was finished ere Kosciusco returned to his 
native country. 

Contributing greatly by his exertions to the establish- 
ment of the independence of America, he might have 



Kosciusco. 263 

remained, and shared the blessings it dispensed, under 
the protection of a chief who loved and honoured him, 
and in the bosom of a grateful and affectionate people. 

Kosciusco had, however, other views. It is not known, 
that, until the period I am speaking of, he had formed 
any distinct idea of what could, or indeed what ought, 
to be done for his own. But in the revolutionary war, 
he drank deeply of the principles which produced it. In 
his conversations with the intelligent men of our country, 
he acquired new views of the science of government and 
the rights of man. He had seen too, that to be free, it 
Avas only necessary that a nation should will it, and to 
be happy, it was only necessary that a nation should be 
free. And was it not possible to procure these blessings 
for Poland ? For Poland, the country of his birth, which 
had a claim to all his efforts, to all his services ? That 
unhappy nation groaned under a complication of evils 
which has scarcely a parallel in history. The mass of 
the people were the abject slaves of the nobles. The no- 
bles, torn into factions, were alternately the instruments 
and the victims of their powerful and ambitious neigh- 
bours. By intrigue, corruption, and force, some of its 
fairest provinces had been separated from the republic, 
and the people, like beasts, transferred to foreign de- 
spots, who were again watching for a favourable moment 
for a second dismemberment. To regenerate a people 
thus debased, to obtain for a country thus circumstanced, 
the blessings of liberty and independence, was a work 
of as much difficulty as danger. But to a mind like Kos- 
ciusco's, the difficulty and danger of an enterprise served 
as stimulants to undertake it. 

Immediately after his return to his native country, he 
was unanimously appointed generalissimo of Poland. In 
the struggles of the Polish army against their oppress- 
ors, Kosciusco often led them to victory. His army per- 
formed prodigies, and charged, with effect, the veteran 
Russians and Prussians. In consequence of the treache- 
ry of one of Kosciusco's officers, who covered with a 
detachment the advance of the army, abandoned his po- 
sition to the enemy, and retreated, the Poles were de- 
feated with great slaughter. The conflict was terrible. 
Kosciusco fell, covered with wounds, but still recovered. 



264 •Laurens. 

He was conveyed by the orders of Catharine, the em-, 
press of Russia, to the dungeons of St. Petersburjj^, 
where he remained until her son Alexander came to the 
throne. One of his first acts was to restore the brav<j» 
Kosciusco to liberty. When he was liberated, he turned' 
his eyes to that country, where, in his youth, he had 
fought for liberty and independence. He embarked for 
America, and landed at Philadelphia. The members of 
congress, then in session, his friends and acquaintances, 
and the citizens generally, hailed his arrival with plea- 
sure. The people surrounded his carriage and accom- 
panied him to his lodgings. After some time, he visited 
the shores of Europe once more. He went to Switzer- 
land, where he soon after died. 






LAURENS, Henry, was born in Charleston, South 
Carolina, in the year 1724. He took an early part in 
opposing the arbitrary claims of Great Britain, at the 
commencement of the American revolution. When the 
provincial congress of Carolina met, in June, 1775, he 
v/as appointed its president; in which capacity he drew 
up a form of association, to be signed by all the friends 
of liberty, which indicated a most determined spirit. 
Being a member of the general congress, after the re- 
signation of Hancock, he was appointed president of that 
illustrious body in November, 1777. In 1780, he was 
deputed to solicit a loan from Holland, and to negotiate 
a treaty with the United Netherlands ; but on his pas- 
sage, he was captured by a British vessel, on the banks 
of Newfoundland. He threw his papers overboard, but 
they were recovered by a sailor. Being sent to England, 
he was committed to the tower, on the 6th of October, 
as a state prisoner, upon a charge of high treason. Here 
he was confined more than a year, and was treated with 
great severity, being denied, for the most part, all inter- 
course with his friends, and forbidden the use of pen, ink, 
and paper. His capture occasioned no small embarrass- 
ment to the ministry. They dared not condemn him as 



LAURENS. 265 

a rebel, through fear of retaliation; and they were un- 
willing to release him, lest he should accomplish the 
object of his mission. The discoveries found in his pa- 

ers led to a war with Great Britain and Holland, and 
Mr. Adams was appointed in his place to carry on the 
negotiation with the United Provinces. 

Many propositions were then made to him, which were 
repelled with indignation. At length, news being re- 
ceived that his eldest son, a youth of such uncommon 
talents, exalted sentiments, and prepossessing manners 
and appearance, that a romantic interest is still attached 
to his name, had been appointed the special minister of 
congress to the French court, and was there urging the 
suit of his country, with winning eloquence, the father 
was requested to write to his son, and urge his return 
to America; it being farther hinted, that, as he was held 
a prisoner, in the light of a rebel, his life should depend 
upon compliance. "My son is of age," replied the he- 
roic father of an heroic son, **and has a will of his own. 
I know him to be a man of honour. He loves me dearly, 
and would lay down his life to save mine; but I am sure 
that he would not sacrifice his honour to save my life, 
and I applaud him." This veteran was, not many months 
after, released, with a request from lord Shelburne that 
he would pass to the continent, and assist in negotiating 
a peace between Great Britain and the free United States 
of America, and France their ally. 

Towards the close of the year 1781, his sufferings, 
which had, by that time, become well known, excited 
the utmost sympathy for himself, but kindled the warm- 
est indignation against the authors of his cruel confine- 
ment. Every attempt to draw concessions from this 

nflexible patriot having proved more than useless, his 
enlargement was resolved upon, but difficulties arose as 
to the mode of effecting it. Pursuing the same high- 
minded course which he had at first adopted, and influ- 
-'nced by the noblest feelings of the heart, he obstinately 
refused his consent to any act which might imply a con- 
fession that he was a British subject, for as such, he had 
been committed on a charge of high treason. It was 
finally proposed to take bail for his appearance at the 
court of king's bench, and when the words of the recog- 



265 LAURENS. 

i^isance, "our sovereign lord the king," were read to 
Mr. Laurens, he distinctly replied in open court, " not 
my sovereign !" With this declaration, he, with Messrs. 
Oswald and Anderson, as his securities, were bound for 
his appearance at the next court of king's bench for Easter 
term, and for not departing without leave of the court, 
upon which he was immediately discharged. When the 
time appointed for his trial approached, he was not only 
exonerated from obligation to attend, but solicited by 
lord Shelburne to depart for the continent to assist in a 
scheme for a pacification with America. The idea of 
being released, gratuitously, by the British government, 
sensibly moved him, for he had invariably considered 
himself as a prisoner of war. Possessed of a lofty sense 
of personal independence, and unwilling to be brought 
under the slightest obligation, he thus expressed him- 
self: '*I must not accept myself as a gift; and as con- 
gress once offered general Burgoyne for me, I have no 
doubt of their being now willing to offer earl Cornwallis 
for the same purpose." 

Close confinement in the tower for more than fourteen 
months, had shattered his constitution, and he was, ever 
afterwards, a stranger to good health. As soon as his 
discharge was promulgated, he received from congress 
a commission, appointing him one of their ministers for 
negotiating a peace with Great Britain. Arriving at 
Paris, in conjunction with Dr. Franklin, John Adams, 
and John Jay, he signed the preliminaries of peace on 
the 30th of >^ovember, 1782, by which the independence 
of the United States was unequivocally acknowledged. 
Soon after this, Mr. Laurens returned to Carolina. En- 
tirely satisfied with the whole course of his conduct 
while abroad, it w ill readily be imagined that his coun- 
trymen refused him no distinctions within their power 
to bestow ; but every solicitation to suffer himself to be 
elected governor, member of congress, or of the legisla- 
ture of the state, he positively withstood. When the 
project of a general convention for revising the federal 
bond of union was under consideration, he was chosen, 
without his knowledge, one of its members, but he re- 
fused to serve. Retired from the world and its concerns, 
he found delight in agricultural experiments, in advancing 



LAURENS. 267 

the welfare of his children and dependants, and in atten- 
tions to the interests of his friends and fellow citizens. 

He expired on the 8th of December, 1792, in the six- 
ty-ninth year of his age. 






LAURENS, John, a brave officer in the revolutionary 
war, was the son of the preceding, and was sent to Eng- 
land for his education. He joined the army in the be- 
ginning of 1777, from which time he was foremost in 
danger. His first essay in arms was at Brandywine. At 
the battle of Germantown, he exhibited prodigies of 
valour, in attempting to expel the enemy from Chew's 
house, and was severely wounded. He was engaged at 
Monmouth, and greatly increased his reputation at 
Rhode Island. At Coosawhatchie, defending the pass 
with a handful of men, against the whole force of Pre- 
vost, he was again wounded, and was probably indebted 
for his life to the gallantry of captain Wigg, who gave 
him his horse to carry him from the field, when incapa- 
ble of moving, his own having been shot under him. He 
headed the light infantry, and was among the first to 
mount the British lines at Savannah ; and displayed the 
greatest activity, zeal and courage, during the siege of 
Charleston. He was present, and distinguished himself 
in every action of the army under general Washington, 
and was among the first who entered the British lines 
at York town. Early in 1781, while he held the rank of 
lieutenant-colonel, he was selected by congress on a spe- 
cial mission to France to solicit a loan of money, and to 
procure military stores. He arrived in March, and re- 
turned in August; having been so successful in the exe- 
cution of his commission, that congress passed a vote of 
thanks for his services. Such was his despatch, that in 
three days after he repaired to Philadelphia, he finished 
his business with congress, and immediately afterwards 
rejoined the American army. On the twenty-seventh of 
August, 1782, in opposing a foraging party of the Bri- 
tish, near Combahee river, in South Carolina, he was 



268 LEE. 

mortally wounded, and he died at the age of twenty- 
seven years. 

His gallantry in action was highly characteristic of 
his love of fame. The post of danger was his favourite 
station. His polite and easy behaviour, insured distinc- 
tion in every society. The warmth of his heart gained 
the affection of his friends, his sincerity their confidence 
and esteem. An insult to his friend, he regarded as a 
wound to his own honour. Such an occurrence led him 
to engage in a personal contest with general Charles 
Lee, who had spoken disrespectfully of general Wash- 
ington. The veteran, who was wounded on the occasion, 
being asked " How Laurens had conducted himself?" 
replied, "I could have hugged the noble boy, he pleased 
me so." 

The following eulogium on the character of lieutenant- 
colonel Laurens, we copy from Marshall's Life of Wash- 
ington. 

" This gallant and accomplished young gentleman had 
entered at an early period of the war into the family of 
the commander in chief, and had always shared a large 
portion of his esteem and confidence. Brave to excess, 
he sought every occasion in addition to those furnished 
by his station in the army, to render services to his 
country, and acquire that military fame which he pur- 
sued with the ardour of a young soldier, whose courage 
seems to have partaken of that romantic spirit which 
youth and enthusiasm produce in a fearless mind. Nor 
was it in the camp alone he was fitted to shine. His edu- 
cation was liberal ; and those who knew him, state his 
manners to have been engaging, and his temper affec- 
tionate. In a highly finished portrait of his character, 
drawn by Dr. Ramsay, he says, that ' a dauntless brave- 
ry was the least of his virtues, and an excess of it his 
greatest foible.' " 



LEE, Richard .Henry, president of congress, was a 
native of Virginia, and from his earliest youth devoted 



LER. 269 

his talents to the service of his country. His public life 
was distinguished by some remarkable circumstances. 
He had the honour of originating the first resistance to 
British oppression, in the time of the stamp act, in 1765. 
He proposed in the Virginia house of burgesses, in 1773, 
the formation of a committee of correspondence, whose 
object was to disseminate information, and to kindle the 
flame of liberty throughout the continent. He was a 
member of the first congress, and it was he who made 
and ably supported the motion for the declaration of in- 
dependence, June 10, 1776. The motion was seconded 
by Mr. John Adams, of Massachusetts. 

He delivered a speech in support of his motion to de- 
clare the colonies independent, from which we give the 
following extract : 

" Who doubts then that a declaration of independence 
will procure us allies ? All nations are desirous of pro- 
curing, by commerce, the production of our exuberant 
soil; they will visit our ports, hitherto closed by the mo- 
nopoly of insatiable England. They are no less eager 
to contemplate the reduction of her hated power; they 
all loath her barbarous dominion ; their succours will 
evince to our brave countrymen the gratitude they bear 
them for having been the first to shake the foundation 
of this Colossus. Foreign princes Avait only for the ex- 
tinction of all hazard of reconciliation to throw off their 
present reserve. If this measure is useful, it is no less 
becoming our dignity. America has arrived at a degree 
of power which assigns her a place among independent 
nations. We are not less entitled to it than the English 
themselves. If they have wealth, so have we; if they 
are brave, so are we; if they are more numerous, our 
population, through the incredible fruitfulness of our 
chaste wives, will soon equal theirs; if they have men of 
renown, as well in peace as in war, we likewise have 
such ; for political revolutions usually produce great, 
brave, and generous spirits. From what we have already 
achieved in these painful beginnings, it is easy to pre- 
sume what we shall hereafter accomplish; for experience 
is the source of sage counsels, and liberty is the mother 
of great men. Have you not seen the enemy driven from 
Lexington, by thirty thousand citizens armed and asscm- 
^ 2 



270 LEE. 

bled in one day ? Already their most celebrated generafs 
have yielded in Boston to the skill of ours; already their 
seamen, repulsed from our coasts, wander over the 
ocean, where they are the sport of the tempest, and the 
prey of famine. Let us hail the favourable omen, and 
fight, not for the sake of knowing on what terms we are 
to be the slaves of England, but to secure to ourselves a 
free existence, to found a just and independent govern- 
ment. Animated by liberty, the Greeks repulsed the 
innumerable army of Persians ; sustained by the love of 
independence, the Swiss and the Dutch humbled the 
power of Austria by memorable defeats, and conquered 
a rank among nations. But the sun of America also 
shines upon the heads of the brave; the point of our 
weapons is no less formidable than theirs'; here also the 
same union prevails, the same contempt of danger and 
of death in asserting the cause of our country. 

"Why then do we longer delay? why still deliberate? 
Let this most happy day give birth to the American Republic. 
Let her arise, not to devastate and conquer, but to re- 
establish the reign of peace and of the laws. The eyes 
of Europe are fixed upon us ! she demands of us a living 
example of freedom, that may contrast, by the felicity 
of the citizens, with the ever increasing tyranny which 
desolates her polluted shores. She invites us to prepare 
an asylum where the unhappy may find solace, and the 
persecuted repose. She entreats us to cultivate a pro- 
pitious soil, where that generous plant which first sprung 
up and grew in England, but is now withered by the 
poisonous blasts of Scottish tyranny, may revive and 
flourish, sheltering under its salubrious and interminable 
shade, all the unfortunate of the human race. This is 
the end presaged by so many omens, by our first victo- 
ries, by the present ardour and union, by the flight of 
Howe, and the pestilence which broke out amongst Dun- 
more's people, by the very winds which baffled the ene- 
my's fleets and transports, and that terrible tempest 
which ingulfed seven hundred vessels upon the coast of 
Newfoundland. If we are not this day wanting in our 
duty to the country, the names of the American legis- 
lators will be exalted, in the eyes of posterity, to a level 
with those of Theseus, Lycurgus, of Romulus, of Numa, 



LEE. 271 

of the three Williams of Nassau, and of all those whose 
memory has been, and will be, for ever dear to virtuous 
men and good citizens." 

After the adoption of the articles of the confederation, 
Mr. Lee was under the necessity of withdrawing from 
congress, as no representative was allowed to continue 
in congress more than three years in any term of six 
years; but he was re-elected in 1784, and continued till 
1787. In November, 1784, he was chosen president of 
congress. When the constitution of the United States 
was submitted to the consideration of the public, he con- 
tended for the necessity of amendments previously to its 
adoption. After the government was organized, he was 
chosen one of the first senators from Virginia, in 1789. 
This station he held till his resignation, in 1792. 

Mr. Lee died at his seat at Chantilly, in Westmore- 
land county, Virginia, June 22, 1794, in the sixty-third 
year of his age. He supported through life the charac- 
ter of a philosopher, a patriot, and a sage j and he died, 
as he had lived, blessing his country. 



LEE, Henry, a distinguished officer in the revolu- 
tionary war, entered the army as a captain of cavalry, 
in the Virginia line, at the age of nineteen, in which 
situation he soon commanded the respect and attention 
of his country, by his active and daring enterprise, and 
the confidence of the illustrious commander in chief of 
the military forces of the United States ; a confidence 
which continued through life. He was rapidly promoted 
to the rank of major, and soon after, to that of lieutenant- 
colonel-commandant of a separate legionary corps. — 
While major, he planned and executed the celebrated 
attack on the enemy's post at Paulus Hook, opposite to 
the city of New York, their head quarters; surprised 
and took the garrison, under the eye of the British army 
and navy, and safely conducted his prisoners into the 
American lines, many miles distant from the post taken. 
There are few enterprises to be found on military record, 



272 LEE. 

equal in hazard or difficulty, or conducted with more 
consummate skill and daring courage. It was, too, ac- 
complished without loss; filled the camp of the enemy 
with shame and astonishment, and shed an unfading lus- 
tre on the American arms. Some time after, he accom- 
panied general Greene to the southern department of the 
United States, subsequent to the memorable and disas- 
trous battle of Camden, which reduced under the power 
of the enemy the three states of North Carolina, South 
Carolina, and Georgia. The many brilliant achieve- 
ments which he performed in that difficult and arduous 
war, under this celebrated and consummate commander, 
it is not necessary to enumerate; they are so many illus- 
trious monuments of American courage and prowess, 
which, in all future ages, will be the theme of historical 
praise, of grateful recollection by his countrymen, and 
of ardent imitation by every brave and patriotic soldier. 
Those states were recovered from the enemy. The coun- 
try enjoys in peace, independence and liberty, the bene- 
fits of his useful services. All that remains of him is a 
grave, and the glory of his deeds. 

At the close of the revolutionary war, he returned to 
the walks of civil life. He was often a member of the 
legislature of Virginia, one of its delegates to congress, 
under the confederation, and one of the convention which 
adopted the present constitution of the United States, 
and which he supported ; three years governor of the 
state, and afterwards a representative in the congress of 
the United States, under the present organization. 

While governor of Virginia, he was selected by pre- 
sident Washington, to command the army sent to quell 
the insurrection which had been excited from untoward 
and erroneous impressions in the western counties of 
Pennsylvania, in which he had the felicity to bring to 
order and obedience, the misguided inhabitants, without 
shedding the blood of one fellow citizen. He possessed 
this peculiar characteristic as a military commander, 
of being always careful of the health and lives of his 
soldiers, never exposing them to unnecessary toils, or 
fruitless hazards; always keeping them in readiness for 
useful and important enterprises. Every public station 
to which he was called, he filled with dignity and pro-- 



LEft. 273 

priety. He died on the 25th of March, 1818, at the 
house of a friend, on Cumberland island, Georgia, on his 
return from the West Indies to his native state, Virgi- 
nia, in the sixty-first year of his age. 

In private life he was kind, hospitable and generous. 
Too ardent in the pursuit of his objects, too confident in 
others, he wanted that prudence which is necessary to 
guard against imposition and pecuniary losses, and ac- 
cumulate wealth. Like many other illustrious command- 
ers and patriots, he died poor. 

He has left behind him a valuable historical work, en- 
titled " Memoirs of the War in the Southern Department 
of the United States," in which the difficulties and pri- 
vations endured by the patriotic army employed in that 
quarter; their courage and enterprise, and the skill and 
talents of their faithful, active, and illustrious command- 
er, are displayed in never-fading colours; a work, to use 
the language of the publishers, by the perusal of which 
" the patriot will be always delighted, the statesman in- 
formed, and the soldier instructed : which bears in every 
part the ingenious stamp of a patriot soldier, and cannot 
fail to interest all who desire to understand the causes, 
and to know the difficulties of our memorable struggle. 
The facts may be relied on, " all of which he saw, and part 
of which he was." ^ 

Fortune seems to have conducted him, at the close of 
his life, almost to the tomb of Greene, and his bones 
may now repose by the side of those of his beloved chief; 
friends in life, united in death, and partners in a never- 
dying fame. 



LEE, Ezra, was a brave officer in the revolutionary 
army. It is not a little remarkable that this officer is 
the only man, of which it can be said, that he fought the 
enemy upon land, upon water, and under the water; the 
latter mode of warfare was as follows: 

When the British fleet lay in the North River, oppo- 
•^ite the city of New York, and while general Washington 



274 LEE. 

had possession of the city, he was very desirous to be 
rid of such neighbours. A Mr. David Bushnell, of Say- 
brook, Connecticut, who had the g-enius of a Fulton, 
constructed a sub-marine machine, of a conical form, 
bound together with iron bands, within which one per- 
son might sit, and with cranks and sculls, could navigate 
it to any depth under water. In the upper part was af- 
fixed a vertical screw, for the purpose of penetrating 
ships' bottoms, and to this was attached a magazine of 
powder, within which was a clock, which, on being set 
to run any given time, would, when run down, spring a 
•gun-lock, and an explosion would follow. This marine 
turtle, so called, was examined by general Washington, 
and approved. To preserve secrecy, it was experiment- 
ed within an enclosed yard, over twenty to thirty feet 
water, and kept during day-light locked in a vessel's 
hold. The brother of the inventor was to be the person 
to navigate the machine into action, but on sinking it the 
first time, he declined the service. 

General Washington, unwilling to relinquish the ob- 
ject, requested major-general Parsons to select a person, 
in whom he could confide, voluntarily to engage in the 
enterprise; the latter being well acquainted with the 
heroic spirit, the patriotism, and the firm and steady 
courage of captain Ezra Lee, immediately communicat- 
ed the plan and the offer, which he accepted, observing, 
that his life was at general Washington's service. After 
practising the machine until he understood its powers 
of balancing and moving under water, a night was fixed 
upon for the attempt. General Washington and his as- 
sociates in the secret, took their station upon the roof 
of a house in Broadway, anxiously waiting the result. 
Morning came, and no intelligence could be had of the 
intrepid sub-marine navigator, nor could the boat which 
attended him give any account of him after parting with 
him the first part of the night. While these anxious 
spectators were about to give him up as lost, several 
barges were seen to start suddenly from Governor's 
Island, (then in possession of the British,) and proceed 
towards some object near the Asia ship of the line; as 
suddenly they were seen to put about and steer for the 
island with springing oars, In two or three minutes aa 



LEE. 275 

explosion took place, from the surface of the water, re- 
sembling a water-spout, which aroused the whole city 
and region; the enemy's ships took the alarm; signals 
were rapidly given; the ships cut their cables and pro- 
ceeded to the Hook with all possible despatch, sweeping 
their bottoms with chains, and with difficulty prevented 
their affrighted crews from leaping overboard. 

During this scene of consternation the deceased came 
to the surface, opened the brass head of his aquatic 
machine, rose up and gave a signal for the boat to come 
to him ; but they could not reach him until he again de- 
scended under water, to avoid the enemy's shot from the 
island, who had discovered him and commenced firing 
in his wake. Having forced himself against a strong- 
current under water, until without the reach of shot, he 
was taken in tow, and landed at the battery amidst a 
great crowd, and reported himself to general Washing- 
ton, who expressed his entire satisfaction that the object 
was effected without the loss of lives. Captain Lee was 
under the Asia's bottom more than two hours, endeav- 
ouring to penetrate her copper, but in vain. He fre- 
quently came up under her stern galleries, searching for 
exposed plank, and could hear the sentinels cry. Once 
he was discovered by the watch oj» deck, and heard them 
speculate uj)on him, but concluded a drifted log had paid 
them a visit. He returned to her keel, and examined it 
fore and aft, and then proceeded to some olher ships, 
but it was impossible to penetrate their copper, for want 
of a resisting power, and hundreds owed the safety of 
their lives to this circumstance. The longest space of 
time he could remain under water was two hours. 

Captain Lee, during the war, ever had the confidence 
and esteem of the commander in chief, and was fre- 
quently employed by him on secret missions of import- 
ance. He fought with him at Trenton and Monmouth; 
at Bi-andywine the hilt of his sword was shot away, and 
his hat and coat were penetrated by the enemy's balls. 
On the return of peace, he laid aside the habiliments of 
war, and returned to his farm, where, like Cincinnatus, 
he tilled his lands, until called by the great commander 
in chief to the regions above. 



276 LINCOLN. 

He died at Lyme, Connecticut, on the 29th October; 
1821, aged seventy-two years. 



LINCOLN, Benjamin, was born in Hingham, Mas- 
sachusetts, January 23, 1733. His early education was 
not auspicious to his future eminence, and his vocation 
was that of a farmer, till he was more than forty years 
of age, though he was commissioned as a magistrate, 
and elected a representative in the state legislature. In 
the year 1775, he sustained the office of lieutenant-colo- 
nel of militia, and having espoused the cause of his coun- 
try as a firm and determined whig, he was elected a 
member of the provincial congress, and one of the secre- 
taries of that body, and also a member of the committee 
of correspondence. In 1776, he was appointed by the 
council of Massachusetts a brigadier, and soon after a 
major-general, and he applied himself assiduously to 
training and preparing the militia for actual service in 
the field, in which he displayed the military talent he 
possessed. In October he marched with a body of mi- 
litia and joined the main army at New York. The com- 
mander in chief, from a knowledge of his character and 
merit, recommended him to congress as an excellent 
officer, and in February, 1777, he was by that honourable 
body created a major-general on the continental esta- 
blishment. For several months he commanded a divi- 
sion, or detachment in the main army, under Washington, 
and was in situations which required the exercise of the 
utmost vigilance and caution, as well as firmness and 
courage. Having the command of about five hundred 
men in an exposed situation near Bound Brook, through 
the neglect of his patroles, a large body of the enemy 
approached within two hundred yards of his quarters un- 
discovered ,; the general had scarcely time to mount and 
leave the house, before it was surrounded. He led off 
his troops, however, in the face of the enemy, and made 
good his retreat, though with the loss of about sixty 
men killed and wounded. One of his aids, with the 



Lincoln. '^lY 

generaPs baggage and papers, fell into the hands of the 
enemy, as did also three small pieces of artillery. In 
July, 1777, general Washington selected him to join the 
northern army under the command of general Gates, to 
oppose the advance of general Burgoyne. He took his 
station at Manchester, in Vermont, to receive and form 
the New England militia as they arrived, and to order 
their march to the rear of the British army. He detach- 
ed colonel Brown, with five hundred men, on the 13th 
of September, to the landing at lake George, where he 
succeeded in surprising the enemy, took possession of 
two hundred batteaux, liberated one hundred American 
prisoners, and captured two hundred and ninety-three 
of the enemy, with the loss of only three killed and five 
wounded. This enterprise was of the highest import- 
ance, and contributed essentially to the glorious event 
which followed. Having detached two other parties to 
the enemy's posts at Mount Independence and Skeens- 
borough, general Lincoln united his remaining force 
with the army under general Gates, and was the second 
in command. During the sanguinary conflict on the 7th 
of October, general Lincoln commanded within oui* 
lines, and at one o'clock the next morning, he marched 
with his division to relieve the troops that had been en- 
gaged, and to occupy the battle ground, the enemy hav- 
ing retreated. While on this duty, he had occasion to 
ride forward some distance, to reconnoitj'e, and to ordei- 
some disposition of his own troops, when a party of the 
enemy made an unexpected movement, and he approach- 
ed within musket-shot before he was aware of his mis- 
take. A whole volley of musketry was instantly dis- 
charged at him and his aids, and he received a wound 
by which the bones of his leg were badly fractured, and 
he was obliged to be carried off the field. The wound 
was a formidable one, and the loss of his limb was for 
some time apprehended. He was for several months con- 
fined at Albany, and it became necessary to remove a 
considerable portion of the main bone before he was con- 
veyed to his house at Hingham, and under this painful 
surgical operation, the writer of this being present, wit- 
nessed in him a degree of firmness and patience not to 
be exceeded. I have known him, says colonel Rice, who 
2 a 



» 
278 LrNCOLN. 

was a member of his military family, during the most 
painful operation by the surgeon, while by-standers were 
frequently obliged to leave the room, entertain us with 
some pleasant anecdote or story, and draw forth a smile 
from his friends. His wound continued several years in 
an ulcerated state, and by the loss of the bone the limb was 
shortened, which occasioned lameness during the remain- 
der of his life. General Lincoln certainly afforded very 
important assistance in the capture of Burgoyne, though 
it was his unfortunate lot, while in active duty, to be dis- 
abled before he could participate in the capitulation. 
Though his recovery was not complete, he repaired to 
head quarters in the following August, and was joyfully 
received by the commander in chief, who well knew how 
to appreciate his merit. It was from a development of 
his estimable character as a man, and his talent as a mi- 
litary commander, that he was designated by congress 
for the arduous duties of the chief command in the 
southern department, under innumerable embarrass- 
ments. On his arrival at Charleston, December, 1778, 
he found that he had to form an army, to provide sup- 
plies, and to arrange the various departments, that he 
might be able to cope with an enemy consisting of ex- 
perienced officers and veteran troops. This, it is obvi- 
ous, required a man of superior powers, indefatigable 
perseverance, and unconquerable energy. Had not these 
been his inherent qualities, Lincoln must have yielded 
to the formidable obstacles which opposed his progress. 
Aboutthe28thof December, general Pre vost arrived with 
a fleet, and about three thousand British troops, and took 
possession of Savannah, after routing a small party of 
Americans under general Robert Howe. General Lin- 
coln immediately put his troops in motion, and took 
post on the eastern side of the river, about twenty miles 
from the city ; but he was not in force to commence of- 
fensive operations till the last of February. In April, 
with the view of covering the upper part of Georgia, 
he marched to Augusta, after which Prevost, the British 
commander, crossed the river into Carolina, and march- 
ed for Charleston. General Lincoln, therefore, recrossed 
the Savannah, and followed his route, and on his arrival 



LINCOLN. 279 

near the city, the enemy had retired from before it dur- 
ing the previous night. 

He joined the count D'Estaing in September, 1779, 
with one thousand men, in the bold assault on Savannah. 
On the 9th of October, in the morning, the troops were 
led on by D'Estaing and Lincoln united, while a column 
led by count Dillion missed their route in the darkness, 
and failed of the intended co-operation.. Amidst a most 
appalling fire of the covered enemy, the allied troops 
forced the abbatis, and planted two standards on the pa- 
rapets. But being overpowered at the point of attack, 
they were compelled to retire; the French having seven 
hundred, the Americans two hundred and forty killed 
and wounded. The count Pulaski, at the head of a body 
of our horse, was mortally wounded. General Lincoln 
next repaired to Charleston, and endeavoured to put 
that city in a posture of defence, urgently requesting of 
congress a reinforcement of regular troops, and addi- 
tional supplies, which were but partially complied with. 
In February, 1780, general sir Henry Clinton arrived, 
and landed a formidable force in the vicinity, and on the 
30th of March, encamped in front of the American lines 
at Charleston. Considering the vast superiority of the 
enemy, both in sea and land forces, it might be ques- 
tioned, whether prudcuv^e and correct juci^ment would 
dictate an attempt to defend the city; it will not be sup- 
posed, however, that the determination was formed 
without the most mature deliberation, and for reasons 
perfectly justifiable. It is well known that the general 
was in continual expectation of an augmentation of 
strength by reinforcements. On the 10th of April, the 
enemy having made some advances, summoned the gar- 
rison to an unconditional surrender, which was promptly 
refused. A heavy and incessant cannonade was sustained 
on each side, till the Uth of May, when the besiegers 
had completed their third parallel line, and having made 
a second demand of surrender, a capitulation was agreed 
on. 

It is to be lamented that, with all tlje judicious and 
vigorous efforts in his power, general Lincoln was re- 
quited only by the frowns of fortune, whereas, had he 
been successful in his bold enterprise and views, he 



280 LINCOLN. 

would have been crowned with unfading laurels. But 
notwithstanding a series of disappointments and unfor- 
tunate occurrences, he was censured by no one, nor was 
his judgment or merit called in question. He retained 
his popularity and the confidence of the army, and was 
considered as a most zealous patriot, and the bravest of 
soldiers. " The motives and feelings that prompted ge- 
neral Lincoln rather to risk a siege than to evacuate 
Charleston, were most honourable to him as a man and 
a soldier. There was such a balance of reasons on the 
question, as under the existing circumstances should 
exempt his decision from blame or distrust. He could 
not calculate on the despondence and inactivity of the 
people who should come to his succour. The suspense 
and anxiety, the toil and hazard attending the siege, gave 
the fullest scope to his wisdom, patience and valour. His 
exertions were incessant. He was on the lines night and 
day, and for the last fortnight never undressed to sleep." 
Notwithstanding this unfortunate termination of his 
command, so established was the spotless reputation of 
the vanquished general, that he continued to enjoy the 
undiminished respect and confidence of the congress, the 
army, and the commander in chief. " Great praise is 
due to general Lincoln," says Dr. Ramsay, " for his ju- 
dicious and spiritea cuiiduct in baffling tor three months 
the greatly superior force of sir Henry Clinton and ad- 
miral Arbuthnot. Though Charleston and the southern 
army were lost, yet, by their long protracted defence, the 
British plans were not only retarded, but deranged ; and 
North Carolina was saved for the remainder of the year 
1780." 

General Lincoln was permitted to his parole, and m 
November following, he was exchanged for major-gene 
ral Phillips, a prisoner of the convention of Saratoga, 
In the campaign of 1781, general Lincoln commanded 
a division under Washington, and at the siege of York 
town he had his full share of the honour of that brilliant 
and auspicious event. The articles of capitulation sti 
pulated for the S8.me honour in favour of the surrendering 
army, as had been granted to the garrison of Charleston. 
General Lincoln was appointed to conduct them to the 
field where their arms were deposited, and received the 



LINCOLN. 281 

customary submission. In the general order of the com- 
mander in chief, the day after the capitulation, general 
Lincoln was among the general officers whose services 
were particularly mentioned. In October, 1781, he was 
chosen by congress secretary at war, retaining his rank 
in the army. In this office he continued till October, 
1783, when his proffered resignation was accepted by 
congress. Having relinquished the duties and cares of 
a public employment, he retired and devoted his atten- 
tion to his farm; but in 1784, he was chosen one of the 
commissioners and agents on the part of the state, to 
make and execute a treaty with the Penobscot Indians. 
When in the year 1786-7, the authority of the state go- 
vernment was in a manner prostrated, and the country 
alarmed by a most audacious spirit of insurrection, un- 
der the guidance of Shays and Day, general Lincoln was 
appointed by the governor and council to command a 
detachment of militia, consisting of four or five thousand 
men, to oppose their progress, and compel them to a 
submission to the laws. He marched from Boston on 
the 20th of January, into the counties of Worcester, 
Hampshire, and Berkshire, where the insurgents had 
erected their standard. They were embodied in consi- 
derable force, and manifested a determined resistance, 
and a slight skirmish ensued between them and a party 
of militia under general Shepherd. Lincoln, however, 
conducted with such address and energy, that the in- 
surgents were routed from one town to another, till they 
were completely dispersed in all directions; and by his 
wise an-d prudent measures, the insurrection was happily 
suppressed without bloodshed, excepting a few indivi- 
duals who were slain under general Shepherd's com- 
mand. At the May election, 1787, general Lincoln was 
elected lieutenant-governor by the legislature, having 
had a plurality of votes by the people. He was a member 
of the convention for ratifying the federal constitution, 
and in the summer of 1789, he received from presi- 
dent Washington the appointment of collector of the 
port of Boston, which office he sustained till being ad- 
monished by the increasing infirmities of age, he re- 
quested permission to resign about two years before his 
death. In 1789, he was appointed one of the commis- 
2 A 2 



282 LINCOLN. 

sioners to treat with the Creek Indians on the frontiers 
of the southern states, and in 1793, he was one of the 
commissioners to effect a peace with the western Indians. 

Having, after his resignation of the office of collector, 
passed about two years in retirement, and in tranquillity 
of mind, but experiencing the feebleness of age, he re- 
ceived a short attack of disease, by which his life was 
terminated on the 9th of May, 1810. 

General Lincoln in his nature, was unsusceptible of 
the spirit of envy. Whoever achieved a noble action to 
the honour and advantage of his country, whether as a 
patriot or soldier, was with him the man of merit, and 
the theme of eulogy, though it might eclipse his own 
fame. He was universally respected as one of the best 
of men, of ardent patriotism, and of heroic courage. 
Major-general Knox, whose candour and discriminating 
judgment no one will deny, was known to estimate next 
to Washington, in military talents, generals Greene and 
Lincoln. Colonel Nathan Rice, a respectable officer, 
who was a member of his military family, observes, that 
the sacrifice of as much domestic happiness as falls to 
the lot of man, to serve his country, would seem to place 
his patriotism beyond suspicion. The firmness and zeal 
with which he rendered this service during her struggle, 
the coolness with which he met danger, his fortitude 
under bodily pain, privation and disappointment, and 
the confidence reposed in him by the commander in 
chief, all strongly evince that his country had not mis- 
judged in elevating him to the distinguished rank he 
held in the army. While at Purysburg, on the Savannah 
river, a soldier named Fickling, having been detected in 
frequent attempts to desert, was tried, and sentenced to 
be hanged. The general ordered the execution. The 
rope broke; a second was procured, which broke also; 
the case was reported to the general for directions. 
''Let him run," said the general, "I thought he looked 
like a scape gallows." 

We are indebted for the foregoing interesting sketch 
of general Lincoln, to Dr. Thacher's excellent work. 
We select what follows from Garden's interesting Anec- 
dotes of the Revolutionary War. 

« It happened that as Fickling was led to execution, 



LINCOLN. 283 

the surgeon-general of the army passed accidentally on 
his way to his quarters, which were at some distance 
off. On being tied up to the fatal tree, the removal of 
the ladder caused the rope to break, and the culprit fell 
to the ground. This circumstance, to a man of better 
character, might have proved of advantage; but being 
universally considered as a miscreant, from whom no 
good could be expected, a new rope was sought for, 
which lieutenant Hamilton, the adjutant of the first re- 
giment, a stout and heavy man, essayed by every means, 
but without effect, to break. Fickling was then halter- 
ed, and again turned off, when to the astonishment of 
the by-standers, the rope untwisted, and he fell a second 
time, uninjured, to the ground. A cry for mercy was 
now general throughout the ranks, which occasioned 
major Ladson, aid-de-camp to general Lincoln, to gallop 
to head quarters, to make a representation of facts, which 
were no sooner stated, than an immediate pardon was 
granted, accompanied with an order, that he should, in- 
stantaneously, be drummed, with every mark of infamy, 
out of camp, and threatened with instant death, if ever 
he should, at any future period, be found attempting to 
approach it. In the interim, the surgeon-general had 
established himself at his quarters, in a distant barn, 
little doubting but that the catastrophe was at an end, 
and Fickling quietly resting in his grave. Midnight 
was at hand, and he was busily engaged in writing, when 
hearing the approach of a footstep, he raised his eyes, 
and saw with astonishment, the figure of a man, who 
had, in his opinion, been executed, slowly, and with hag- 
gard countenance, approaching towards him. "How! 
how is this?" exclaimed the doctor. "Whence come 
you ? What do you want with me ? Were you not hang- 
ed this morning?" "Yes, sir," replied the resuscitated 
man, " I am the wretch you saw going to the gallows, 
and who was hanged." "Keep your distance," said the 
doctor; approach me not till you say, why you come 
here ?" " Simply, sir," said the supposed spectre, " to 
solicit food. I am no ghost, doctor. The rope broke 
twice while the executioner was doing his office, and the 
general thought proper to pardon me." " If that be the 
case," rejoined the doctor, "eat and welcome; but I beg 



284 MARION 

of you, in future, to have a little more consideration, and 
not intrude so unceremoniously into the apartment of 
one who had every right to suppose you an inhabitant 
of the tomb." 

The person and air of general Lincoln betokened his 
military vocation. He was of a middle height, and erect, 
broad chested and muscular, in his latter years corpu- 
lent, with open intelligent features, a venerable and be- 
nign aspect. His manners were easy and unaffected, but 
courteous and polite. In all his transactions, both pub- 
lic and private, his mind was elevated above all sordid 
or sinister views, and our history will not perhaps re- 
cord many names more estimable than was that of gene- 
ral Lincoln. 

Regularity, both in business and his mode of livings 
were peculiar traits in his character ; habitually tem- 
perate, and accustomed to sleep, unconfined to time or 
place. In conversation he was always correct and chaste; 
on no occasion uttering any thing like profanity or levity 
on serious subjects, and when others have indulged in 
these respects in his presence, it was ever received by 
him with such marked disapprobation of countenance, 
as to draw from them an instantaneous apology, and re- ' 
gret for the offence. 

The following anecdote is related of general Lincoln : 
When he went to make peace with the Creek Indians, 
one of the chiefs asked him to sit down on a log. He 
was then desired to move, and, in a few minutes, to move 
farther. The request was repeated until the general got 
to the end of the log. The Indian said, " Move farther;'* 
to which the general replied, "I can move no farther." 
"Just so it is with us," said the chief; "you have moved 
us back to the water, and then ask us to move farther !" 



MARION, Francis, colonel in the regular service, 
and brigadier-general in the militia of South Carolina, 
was born in the vicinity of Georgetown, in South Caro- 
lina, in the year 1733. 



MARION. 285 

Young Marion, at the age of sixteen, entered on board 
a vessel bound to the West Indies, with a determination 
to fit himself for a seafaring life. On his outward pas- 
sage, the vessel was upset in a gale of wind, when the 
crew took to their boat without water or provisions, it 
being impracticable to save any of either. A dog jumped 
into the boat with the crew, and upon his flesh, eaten 
raw, did the survivers of these unfortunate men subsist 
for seven or eight days ; in which period several died of 
hunger. 

Among the few who escaped was young Marion. Af- 
ter reaching land, Marion relinquished his original plan 
of life, and engaged in the labours of agriculture. In 
this occupation he continued until 1759,w^hen he became 
a soldier, and was appointed a lieutenant in a company 
of volunteers, raised for an expedition against the Chero- 
kee Indians, commanded by captain William Moultrie, 
(since general Moultrie.) This expedition was conduct- 
ed by governor Lyttleton : it was followed in a year or 
two by dnother invasion of the Cherokee country by 
colonel Grant, who served as major-general in our war 
under sir William Howe. 

In this last expedition lieutenant Marion also served, 
having been promoted to the rank of captain. As soon 
as the war broke out between the colonies and the mo- 
ther country, Marion was called to the command of a 
company in the first corps raised by the state of South 
Carolina. He was soon afterwards promoted to a ma- 
jority, and served in that rank under colonel Moultrie, 
in his intrepid defence of fort Moultrie, against the 
combined attack of sir Henry Clinton and sir Henry 
Parker, on the 2d of June, 1776. He was afterwards 
placed at the head of a regiment as lieutenant-colonel- 
commandant, in which capacity he served during the 
siege of Charleston ; when, having fractured his leg by 
some accident, he became incapable of military duty, 
and fortunately for his country, escaped the captivity to 
which the garrison was, in the sequel, forced to submit. 

Upon the fall of Charleston, many of the leading men 
of the state of South Carolina sought personal safety, 
with their adherents, in the adjoining states. Delighted 
^t the present prospect, these faithful and brave citizens 



286 MARION. 

hastened back to their country to share in the perils and 
toils of war. 

Among them were Francis Marion and Thomas 
Sumpter, both colonels in the South Carolina line, and 
both promoted by governor Rutledge to the rank of bri- 
gadier-general in the militia of the state. Enthusiastically 
wedded to the cause of liberty, he deeply deplored the 
doleful condition of his beloved country. The common 
weal was his sole object; nothing selfish, nothing mer- 
cenary, soiled his ermin character. Fertile in stratagem, 
he struck unperceived; and retiring to those hidden re- 
treats, selected by himself, in the morasses of Pedee and 
Black River, he placed his corps not only out of the reach 
of his foe, but often out of the discovery of his friends. 
A rigid disciplinarian, he reduced to practice the justice 
of his heart; and during the difficult course of warfare, 
through which he passed, calumny itself never charged 
him with violating the rights of person, property, or hu- 
manity. Never avoiding danger, he never rashly sought 
it; and acting for all around him as he did fof himself, 
he risked the lives of his troops only when it was ne- 
cessary. Never elated with prosperity, nor depressed by 
adversity, he preserved an equanimity which won the 
admiration of his friends, and exacted the respect of his 
enemies. The country, from Camden to the sea coast^ 
between the Pedee and Santee, was the theatre of his 
exertions. 

When Charleston fell into the enemy's hands, lieute- 
nant-colonel Marion abandoned his state, and took shel- 
ter in North Carolina. The moment he recovered from 
the fracture of his leg, he engaged in preparing the 
means of annoying the enemy, then in the flood-tide of 
prosperity. With sixteen men only, he crossed the San- 
tee, and commenced that daring system of warfare which 
so much annoyed the British army. 

Colonel Peter Horry, in his life of general Marion, 
gives the following interesting incident: '* About this 
time, we received a flag from the enemy in Georgetown, 
South Carolina, the object of which was to make some 
arrangements about the exchange of prisoners. The flag, 
after the usual ceremony of blindfolding, was conducted 
into Marion's encampment. Having heard great talk 



MARION. 58r 

about general Marion, his fancy had naturally enough 
sketched out for him some stout figure of a warrior, such 
as O'Hara, or Cornwallis himself, of martial aspect and 
flaming regimentals. But what was his surprise, when 
led into Marion's presence, and the bandage taken from 
his eyes, he beheld, in our hero, a swarthy, smoke-dried 
little man, with scarcely enough of thread -bare homespun 
to cover his nakedness ! and, instead of tall ranks of gay- 
dressed soldiers, a handful of sun-burnt, yellow-legged 
militia-men; some roasting potatoes, and some asleep, 
with their black fire-locks and powder horns lying by 
them on the logs. Having recovered a little from his 
surprise, he presented his letter to general Marion, who 
perused it, and soon settled every thing to his satisfaction. 

The officer took up his hat to retire. 

" Oh no !" said Marion, " it is now about our time of 
dining, and I hope, sir, you will give us the pleasure of 
your company to dinner." 

At mention of the word dinner^ the British officer look- 
ed around him, but to his great mortification, could see 
no sign of a pot, pan, Dutch-oven, or any other cooking 
utensil, that could raise the spirits of a hungry man. 

" Well, Tom," said the general to one of his men, 
"come, give us our dinner." 

The dinner to which he alluded, was no other than a 
heap of sweet potatoes, that were very snugly roasting 
under the embers, and which Tom, with his pine stick 
poker, soon liberated from their ashy confinement; pinch- 
ing them every now and then with his fingers, especially 
the big ones, to see whether they were well done or not- 
Then, having cleansed them of the ashes, partly by blow- 
ing them with his breath, and partly by brushing them 
with the sleeve of his old cotton shirt, he piled some of 
the best on a large piece of bark, and placed them be- 
tween the British officer and Marion, on the trunk of the 
fallen pine on which they sat. 

" I fear, sir," said the general, " our dinner will not 
prove so palatable to you as I could wish; but it is the 
best we have." 

The officer, who was a well bred man, took up one of 
the potatoes and affected to feed, &s if he had found a 



288 MARION. 

great dainty; but it was very plain that he ate more from 
good manners than good appetite. 

Presently he broke out into a hearty laugh. Marion 
looked surprised. " I beg pardon, general," said he, 
" but one cannot, you know, always command one's con- 
ceits. I was thinking how drolly some of my brother 
officers would look, if our government were to give them 
such a bill of fare as this." 

" I suppose," replied Marion, "it is not equal to their 
style of dining." 

" No, indeed," quoth the officer, " and this, I imagine, 
is one of your accidental lent dinners : a sort of ban yan. 
In general, no doubt, you live a great deal better. " 

" Rather worse," answered the general, "for often we 
don't get enough of this." 

" Heavens !" rejoined the officer; " but probably what 
you lose in meal you make up in malt^ though stinted in 
provisions^ you draw noble /?a?/." 

"iVb/ a cent, sir," said Marion, " tiot a cent,'* 

" Heavens and earth ! then you must be in a bad box. 
I don't see, general, how you can stand it." 

" Why, sir," replied Marion, with a smile of self- 
approbation, " these things depend on feeling." 

The Englishman said, " he did not believe it would be 
an easy matter to reconcile his feelings to a soldier's life 
on general Marion's terms: all Jighting, no pay, and no 
provisions, hut potatoes.''' 

" Why, sir," answered the general, " the heart is all; 
and when that is much interested, a man can do any 
thing. Many a youth would think it hard to indent him- 
self a slave for fourteen years. But let him be over head 
and ears in love, and with such a beauteous sweetheart 
as Rachael, and he will think no more of fourteen years 
servitude, than young Jacob did. Well, now, this is ex- 
actly my case. I am in love, and my sweetheart is 
Liberty. Be that heavenly nymph my champion, and 
these woods shall have charms beyond London and Paris 
in slavery. To have no proud monarch driving over me 
with his gilt coaches; nor his host of excisemen and 
tax-gatherers, insulting and robbing; but to be my own 
master, my own prince and sovereign; gloriously pre- 
serving my national dignity, and pursuing my true 



MARION. 289 

happiness; planting my vineyards, and eating their lus- 
cious fruit ; sowing my fields, and reaping the golden 
grain ; and seeing millions of brothers all around me, 
equally free and happy, as myself. This, sir, is what I 
long for." 

The officer replied, that both as a man mnd a Briton, 
he must certainly subscribe to this as a happy state of 
things. 

''^ Happy ^'' quoth Marion, *' yes, happy, indeed; and I 
would rather fight for such blessings for my country, 
and feed on roots, than keep aloof, though wallowing 
in all the luxuries of Solomon. For now, sir, I walk the 
soil that gave me birth, and exult in the thought, that I 
am not unworthy of it. I look upon these venerable 
trees around me, and feel that I do not dishonour them. 
I think of my own sacred rights, and rejoice that I have 
not basely deserted them. And when I look forward to 
the long, long ages of posterity, I glory in the thought 
that I am fighting their battles. The children of distant 
generations may never hear my name; but still it glad- 
dens my heart to think that I am now contending for 
their freedom,, with all its countless blessings." 

I looked at Marion as he uttered these sentiments, and 
fancied I felt as when I heard the last words of the brave 
De Kalb. The Englishman hung his honest head, and 
looked, I thought, as if he had seen the upbraiding 
ghosts of his illustrious countrymen, Sidney and Hamden. 

On his return to Georgetown, he was asked by colonel 
Watson, why he looked so serious. 

" I have cause, sir," said he, " to look so serious." 

" What! has general Marion refused to treat?" 

"No, sir." 

" Well, then, has old Washington defeated sir Henry 
Clinton, and broke up our army ?" 

" No, sir, not that neither, but worse.,** 

*' Ah ! what can be worse ?" 

" Why, sir, I have seen an American general and his 
officers, without pay^ and almost without clothes^ living on 
roots^ and drinking water ; and all for Liberty I ! What 
chance have we against such men?" 

It is said colonel Watson was not much obliged to 
hira for his speech. But the young officer was so struck 
2 B 



J90 MERCER. 

with Marion's sentiments, that he never rested until he 
threw up his commission, and retired from the service- 
General Marion was, in stature, of the smallest size, 
thin, as well as low. His visage was not pleasing, and 
his manners not captivating. He was reserved and si- 
ient, entering into conversation only when necessary, and 
then with modesty and good sense. 

He possessed a strong mind, improved by its own re- 
flections and observations, not by books or travel. His 
dress was like his address ; plain, regarding comfort and 
decency only. In his meals he was abstemious, eating 
generally of one dish, and drinking water only. 

He was sedulous and constant in his attention to the 
duties of his station, to which every other consideration 
yielded. 

The procurement of subsistence for his men, and the 
contrivance of annoyance to his enemy, engrossed his 
entire mind. He was virtuous all over ; never, even in 
manner, much less in reality, did he trench upon right. 
Beloved by his friends, and respected by his enemies, he 
exhibited a luminous example of the beneficial effects to 
be produced by an individual, who, with only small 
means at his command, possesses a virtuous heart, a 
strong head, and a miud devoted to the common good. 
After the war the general married, but had no issue. 

General Marion died in February, 1793, leaving be- 
hind him an indisputable title to the first rank among 
the patriots and soldiers of our revolution. 



MERCER, Hugh, was born at Aberdeen, in the north 
of Scotland, and received his education in the university 
of that place. His profession was that of a physician, 
and he acted in the capacity of surgeon's-mate, at the 
memorable battle of Culloden. Soon after that event, 
1746, he left his native country, and came to this. He 
settled in the then colony of Pennsylvania, and took an 
active part in the wars of that day, carried on in the 
back pai'ts of the aett'lement, against the savages. He 



MERmR. 291 

was with general Braddock in the disastrous campaign 
of 175 5, and was thus the early companion in arms of 
the illustrious Washington. He served in the expedition 
under colonel Armstrong, in the year 1756, and received 
a medal for his good conduct at the battle of Kittaning, 
from the corporation of the city of Philadelphia. This 
mark of approbation is still preserved by his children, 
as a sacred memorial of his public worth, and private 
virtues. In this battle, which terminated in the defeat 
of the Indians and the destruction of their town, general 
Mercer was severely wounded in the right arm, which 
was broken. Upon that occasion he narrowly escaped 
])cing taken prisoner, and being separated from his party, 
wandered a fortnight in the wilderness, slaking his thirst 
in the brook of the forest, and subsisting on the body of 
a rattle-snake which he had killed, until he reached the 
settled country. 

Being a physician, he applied temporary relief to his 
wound. While wandering in the woods, much exhausted 
from loss of blood, and the want of proper food and 
nourishment, and surrounded by hostile savages, he took 
refuge in a hollow tree which lay on the ground. In 
that situation he was, when many of the savages came 
up, and seated themselves on the tree. They remained 
there some time, and departed without discovering that 
a wounded soldier and a foe was near them. General 
Mercer then endeavoured to return by the route in which 
the army had advanced, and, incredible as it may appear, 
he reached fort Cumberland, through a trackless wild 
of more than a hundred miles, with no other nutriment 
than that already mentioned. 

After the peace of 1763, doctor Mercer came from 
Pennsylvania, and settled in Fredericksburg, Virginia, 
and married Isabella, the youngest daughter of John and 
Margaret Gordon. 

General Mercer was a zealous advocate for the rights 
of the colonists; and upon the breaking out of the war 
between them and the mother country, was among the 
first who entered the revolutionary army. He was soon 
afterwards honoured by congress with a brigadier-gene- 
ral's commission. For a long time previous to the Ame- 
rican revolution, he pursued his profession as a physician, 



292 MERCER. 

and had a very extensive practice. To the poor, he was 
studiously kind, often bestowing on them his profession- 
al attendance ; and in his last will, he left it in special 
charge to his executors, not to require payment of the 
debts due by those in indigent circumstances. 

General Mercer's brigade formed a part of the left 
wing of Washington's army, in the capture of the Hes- 
sians, at Trenton, in December, 1776. The battle of 
Princeton, on the morning of the third of January, 1777, 
was commenced by general Mercer with his column, 
consisting of about three hundred and fifty men, near 
Stoney-brook. Upon hearing the firing, general Wash- 
ington, in person, led on his force to the support of Mer- 
cer, with two pieces of artillery. The force engaged 
against him was the British 17th regiment, commanded 
by colonel Mawhood. After the third fire, in conse- 
quence of a charge made by the British, Mercer's corps, 
chiefly raw militia, fled in disorder. 

General Mercer made great exertions to rally them, 
and was much exposed to the enemy's fire. His horse 
becoming restive and unmanageable, he dismounted, 
thinking he could then the more effectually rally his 
broken troops, but he was surrounded by the enemy, 
whom he resisted with great determination and bravery, 
but was overpowered. It is said that he was stabbed 
after he had surrendered. General Washington coming 
up at this juncture, changed the fortune of the day. 
After the battle of Princetbn, general Mercer lived a 
week, being about fifty-five years of age. He was buried 
at Princeton, but the body was afterwards removed to 
Philadelphia, and interred in Christ church-yard, with 
military honours. Provision was made by congress, in 
lZ93,for the education of his youngest son, Hugh Mercer. 

General Wilkinson, in his memoirs, in giving the par- 
ticulars of the battle of Princeton, says: " But in general 
Mercer we lost a chief, who, for education, experience, 
talents, disposition, integrity and patriotism, was second 
to no man but the commander in chief, and was qualified 
to fill the higher trusts of the country." General Wil- 
kinson, in the same work, observes, '*That the evening 
of January 1st, 1777, was spent with general St. Clair, 
by several pfficers, of whom Mercer was one, who, ip. 



i 



MEIGS. 5J03 

conversation, made some remarks disapproving the ap- 
pointment of captain William Washington to a majority 
in the horse, which was not relished by the company: 
he thus explained himself: * We are not engaged in a 
war of ambition ; if it had been so, I should never have 
accepted a commission under a man (Patrick Henry) 
who had never seen a day's service; we serve not for 
ourselves, but for our country: and every man should be 
content to fill the place in which he can be most useful. 
1 know Washington to be a good captain of infantry, 
but I know not what sort of a major of horse he may 
make; and I have seen good captains make indifferent 
majors. For my own part, my views in this contest are 
confined to a single object, that is, the success of the 
cause, and God can witness how cheerfully I would lay 
down my life to secure it.' " 

Little did he then expect, that a few fleeting moments 
would have sealed the compact. His death was a most 
serious loss to his country, his family and friends. 



MEIGSj Return Jonathan, was born in Middletowii, 
in the state of Connecticut. Immediately after the battle 
of Lexington, which opened the bloody drama of the 
revolution, he marched a company of light infantry, com- 
pletely uniformed and equipped, which he had previously 
organized and disciplined, for the environs of Boston. 
He was soon appointed a major by the state of Connecti- 
cut, and marched with colonel Arnold in his tedious and 
suffering expedition to Canada. In the bold enterprise 
of storming Quebec, he commanded a battalion; and, 
after penetrating within the walls of the city, was made 
prisoner, together with captains Morgan and Dearborn, 
since become generals, and well distinguished in Ame- 
rican history. In 1776, major Meigs was exchanged, 
and returned home. In 1777, general Washington ap- 
pointed him colonel, with authority to raise a regiment. 
Colonel Meigs having raised a part of his regiment, 
marched to New Haven, to carry into execution a plan 
2 B 3 



294 MEIGS. 

projected for the surprisal and destruction of a part of 
the enemy at Sag Harbour, on Long Island, where large 
quantities of stores and forage had been collected for 
the army at New York; the account of which is given 
in "Marshall's Life of Washington,*' as follows. 

" General Parsons intrusted the execution of this plan 
to colonel Meigs, a very gallant officer, who had accom- 
panied Arnold in his memorable march to Quebec, and 
had been taken prisoner in the unsuccessful attempt 
made on that place by Montgomery. He embarked with 
about two hundred and thirty men, on board thirteen 
whale-boats, and proceeded along the coast to Guilford, 
from whence he was to cross the Sound. Here he was 
detained some time by high winds and a rough sea; but 
on the 23d of May, about one o'clock in the afternoon, 
he re-embarked one hundred and seventy of his detach- 
ment, and proceeded, under convoy of two armed sloops, 
across the Sound, to the north division of the island near 
Southold. The east end of Long Island is deeply inter- 
sected by a bay, on the north side of which had been a 
small foraging party, against which the expedition was 
in part directed; but they had marched to New York 
two days before. 

" Here, however, information was received, that the 
stores had not been removed from Sag Harbour, which 
lies in the northern division of the island, and that a 
small guard still remained there for their defence. The 
boats were immediately conveyed across the land, a dis- 
tance of about fifteen miles, into the bay, where the 
troops re-embarked, and crossing the bay, landed within 
four miles of Sag Harbour, at two o'clock in the morn- 
ing, which place they completely surprised, and carried 
with fixed bayonets. At the same time a division of the 
detachment secured the armed schooner and the vessels, 
with the forage which had been collected for the supply 
of the army at New York. These brigs and sloops,, 
twelve in number, were set on fire and entirely consumed. 
Six of the enemy were killed, and ninety of them taken 
prisoners; a very few escaped under cover of the night. 
Colonel Meigs returned to Guilford with his prisoners; 
having thus completely effected the object of the expe- 
dition, without the loss of a single man, and having 



MEios. 295 

moved with such uncommon celerity, as to have tran- 
sported his men by land and water ninety miles in twen- 
ty-five hours. 

" As a mark of their approbation of his conduct, con- 
gress directed a sword to be presented to him, and pass- 
ed a resolution expressive of their high sense entertained 
of his merits and of the prudence^ activity and valour^ dis- 
played by himself ajid his party in this expedition,*^ 

In 1779, colonel Meigs commanded one of the regi- 
ments which stormed and carried Stony Point, under 
general Wayne. 

He was one of the first settlers of the wilderness, which 
has since become the state of Ohio ; having landed at 
the confluence of the Ohio and Muskingum rivers, with 
the earliest emigrants. A government for the north- 
western territory had been prepared, by an ordinance of 
the congress of 1787. Governor St. Clair and the judges 
of the territory had not arrived. The emigrants were 
without civil laws or civil authority. Colonel Meigs 
drew up a concise system of regulations, which were 
agreed to by the emigrants, as the rule of conduct and 
preservation, until the proper authorities should arrive. 
To give these regulations publicity, a large oak, stand- 
ing near the confluence of the rivers, was selected, from 
which the bark was cut oflT, of sufficient space to attach 
the sheet, on which the regulations were written ; and 
they were beneficially adhered to until the civil authori- 
ties arrived. This venerable oak was, to the emigrants, 
more useful, and as frequently consulted, as the oracle 
of ancient Delphos, by its votaries. 

During a long life of activity and usefulness, no man 
ever sustained a character more irreproachable than 
colonel Meigs. He was a pattern of excellence as a pa- 
triot, a philanthropist, and a Christian. In all the vicis- 
situdes of fortune, the duties of religion were strictly 
observed, and its precepts strikingly exemplified. The 
latter part of his life was devoted to the melioration of 
the condition of the aborigines of the country, for which 
purpose he accepted the agency of the Cherokee station; 
and in the discharge of his duties he inspired the high- 
est degree of confidence in that nation, by whom he was 
emphatically denominated "The White Path." In all 



296 MIFFLIN. 

cases they revered him as their father, and obeyed his 
counsel as an unerring guide. 

His death is a loss to the country, and especially to 
that station. His remains were interred with the ho- 
nours of war, amidst a concourse of sincere friends, and 
in the anguish of undissembled sorrow. His death was 
serenely happy in the assurance of Christian hope. He 
died on the 28th of January, 1823, at the Cherokee 
Agency. 






MIFFLIN, Thomas, a major-general in the American 
army during the revolutionary war, and governor of 
Pennsylvania, was born in the year 1744, of parents who 
were Quakers. His education was intrusted to the care 
of the Rev. Dr. Smith, with whom he was connected in 
habits of cordial intimacy and friendship, for more than 
forty years. Active and zealous, he engaged early in 
opposition to the measures of the British parliament. 
He was a member of the first congress in 1774. He took 
arms, and was among the first officers commissioned on 
the organization of the continental army, being appoint- 
ed quarter-master-general in August, 1775. For this 
offence he was read out of the society of Quakers. In 
1777, he was very useful in animating the militia, and 
enkindling the spirit which seemed to have been damp- 
ed. His sanguine disposition and his activity rendered 
him insensible to the value of that coolness and caution, 
which were essential to the preservation of such an army 
as was then under the command of general Washington. 
In 1787, he was a member of the convention, which 
framed the constitution of the United States, and his 
signature is affixed to that instrument. In October, 1788, 
he succeeded Franklin as president of the supreme 
executive council of Pennsylvania, in which station he 
continued till October, 1790. In September, a consti- 
tution for this state was formed by a convention, in which 
he presided, and he was chosen the first governor. In 
1794, during the insurrection in Pennsylvania, he em- 



M^KEAK. 297 

ployed, to the advantage of his country, the extraordi- 
nary powers of elocution, with which he was endowed. 
The imperfection of the militia laws was compensated 
by his eloquence. He made a circuit through the lower 
counties, and, at different places, publicly addressed the 
militia on the crisis in the affairs of their country, and 
through his animating exhortations, the state furnished 
the quota required. He was succeeded in the office of 
governor by Mr. M'Kean, at the close of the year 1799. 
He died at Lancaster, January 20, 1800, in the fifty- 
seventh year of his age. He was an active and zealous 
patriot, who had devoted much of his life to the public 
service. 






MCKEAN, Thomas, one of the signers of the declara- 
tion of independence, afterwards chief justice and go- 
vernor of the state of Pennsylvania, was born on the 19th 
day of March, 1734, in Chester county, in the then pro- 
vince of Pennsylvania. His father, William M*Kean, 
was a native of Ireland, but married in this country. 
The subject of this notice, was at an early age placed 
under the tuition of the Rev. Francis Allison, D. D. a man 
of distinguished learning, and who conducted the most 
celebrated academy in the province. In that institution, 
Thomas M'Kean acquired a sound knowledge of the 
languages, and was instructed in the practical branches 
of the mathematics and moral philosophy. He proceed- 
ed to Newcastle, Delaware, and read law in the office of 
David Kinney, Esq. Having been admitted to the bar, 
he continued to reside at Newcastle, where he soon ac- 
quired a solid reputation, and obtained full business. 
Extending his practice into Pennsylvania, he was, in the 
year 1757, admitted to the bar of the supreme court of 
that province. During the early part of his career, he 
was particularly remarkable for his attentive habits of 
business, and for his devotion to the acquisition of know- 
ledge, and thus laid the foundation of his subsequent 
usefulness and distinction. In the year 1762, he was 



298 M*KEAV. 

elected a member of assembly for Newcastle county, and 
was annually returned for eleven successive years, until 
his removal to Philadelphia, as a place of residence ; and 
even after that removal, so great was the confidence re- 
posed in him by the freeholders in Newcastle county, 
that they elected him annually for six years more, though 
he frequently communicated to them through the news- 
papers, his desire to decline the honour. At the end of 
this period, after he had represented Delaware in con- 
gress, and become chief justice of Pennsylvania, an oc- 
currence took place of so interesting a character, that 
we think it worthy of being related to our readers. On 
the day of the general election in Delaware, in October, 
1779, he waited on his constituents at Newcastle, and 
after a long address on the situation and prospects of the 
United States, in which he displayed the wisdom of the 
statesman, and the energy of the patriot, he desired to 
be no longer considered one of the candidates for the 
state legislature, assigning reasons which were received 
as satisfactory. Soon after he had retired, a committee 
of the electors present waited on him, informed him that 
they would excuse him from serving in the assembly, 
but requested, in the name of the electors, that as the 
times were critical, and they could fully rely on his judg- 
ment, he would recommend seven persons in whom they 
might confide, as representatives. So singular a method 
of exhibiting their confidence in him, could not but ex- 
cite his surprise; however, he instantly acknowledged 
the compliment, and desired the committee to acquaint 
his fellow citizens, that he thanked them for the honour 
intended him, but as he knew not only seveii^ but seventy 
of the gentlemen then attending the election, whom he 
believed to be worthy of their votes, he felt assured, they 
would not, on further reflection, subject him to the 
hazard of giving offence, by the preference he must show, 
if he complied with their request, and hoped to be ex- 
cused. The committee having left him, soon returned, 
and stated, that the electors after hearing his reply, had 
unanimously reiterated their request, and declared, that 
a compliance by him would offend no one. He, there- 
upon, instantly, though reluctantly, wrote down seven 
names, and handed them to the committee, with the 



m'kean. 299 

observation, that his conduct would at least evidence a 
reciprocity of confidence between them. The election 
proceeded harmoniously, and resulted in the choice of 
the seven gentlemen whom he had thus named. He was 
afterwards accustomed to speak of this transaction as 
one of the most gratifying circumstances of his life. 

Upon the adoption of the first act of the British par- 
liament, imposing "stamp duties" on the colonies, a 
congress of committees from dift'erent legislative assem- 
blies, was, upon the suggestion of the assembly of Mas- 
sachusetts Bay, convened at New York, in October, 1765. 
Of this congress, Mr. M'Kean was a representative from 
Delaware, and was the surviving member. He was one 
of the committee appointed to draft an address to the 
house of commons of Great Britain. At this early pe- 
riod, he displayed, in support of the rights of his coun- 
try, that unbending firmness and energy, which illustrated 
his subsequent public conduct. On his return to New- 
castle, he, with his colleague, Mr. Rodney, received the 
unanimous thanks of the assembly of Delaware. He 
continued to be engaged in various public employments, 
and, in 1765, was appointed a justice of the court of com- 
mon pleas and quarter sessions, and of the orphans' court, 
for the county of Newcastle. In November term, 1765, 
and in February term, 1766, he sat on the bench which 
ordered all the officers of the court to proceed in their 
several vocations, as usual, on unstamped paper. This 
was done accordingly, and it is believed this was the 
first court that made such an order in any of the colonies. 

In relation to all the public events which soon after 
followed, his opinions were firm and decided. He was 
uniform and energetic in resisting the usurpations of the 
British crown. Immediately after the second attempt 
of the mother country to raise a revenue from the colo- 
nies, without their consent, which was made by an act, 
imposing a duty on tea, Sec, a correspondence took 
place among leading and influential characters, in most 
of the colonies, who concerted measures of opposition 
to this proceeding, and procured a meeting of delegates 
from their respective houses of assembly, at Philadel- 
phia, in September, 1774. Mr. M'Kean took an active 
part in tHs aifair, as he had done in 1765, axid waa 



300 m'kean. 

appointed a representative of Delaware, though he had, 
a short time before, removed his residence to Philadel- 
phia. At the opening of this congress, whose conduct 
proved it the most glorious assemblage which the world 
ever knew, Mr. M'Kean appeared as a representative 
from Delaware. He was annually returned as a member, 
until the independence of his country M'as formally ac- 
knowledged by the treaty of peace, in 1783. 

Two circumstances are peculiar in his history, as con- 
nected with this period. He was the only man who was, 
without intermission of time, a member of the revolu- 
tionary congress, from the day of its opening, in 1774, 
till the preliminaries of the peace of 1783 were signed 
The various public duties of different members, with 
other circumstances, concurred to produce this fact. 
Though he was also engaged in other important public 
affairs, yet his residence at Philadelphia induced his con- 
stituents to continue to return him. The other circum- 
stance to which we refer, is, that while he represented 
the state of Delaumre in this congress, until 1783, and 
was in 1781, president of congress, as will be presently 
stated, yet from July, 1777, he held the appointment and 
executed the duties of chief justice of Pennsylvania. 
Each of these states claimed him as her own; and for 
each were his talents faithfully exerted. 

He was particularly active and useful in procuring 
the declaration of independence, in 1776. Delaware was 
represented in congress by Csesar Rodney, George Read, 
and Thomas M'Kcan. Mr. Rodney was absent when the 
question was discussed in committee of the whole, and 
Mr. Read in committee had voted against the declara- 
tion. Delaware was thus divided. All the other states, 
except Pennsylvania, had voted in favour of the measure, 
and it therefore became important to the friends of the 
declaration, that the votes of these two states should be 
secured. Mr. M'Kcan immediately, at his own expense., 
sent an express for Mr. Rodney, who, in consequence of 
it, arrived in Philadelphia just as congress was assem- 
bling on the morning of the 4th of July. He was met at 
the state house door by Mr. M'Kean. After a friendly 
salutation, and without a word being spoken on the sub- 
ject, tliey entered the hail together, and took their seati. 



M^KEAS. 301 

"When the vote of Delaware was called, Mr. Rodney 
rose, in his boots and spurs, just as he had arrived, 
and briefly expressing his conviction that the welfare of 
his country demanded the declaration, voted with Mr. 
M'Kean, and secured the voice of Delaware. The state 
of Pennsylvania, on this day, also joined^ in the same 
vote, (two of the members who voted against it in com- 
mittee being absent) and thus the declaration became 
the unanimous act of the thirteen states. 

Shortly after the declaration of independence, Mr. 
M'Kean was appointed colonel of a regiment of asso- 
ciators, of the city of Philadelphia, and marched at the 
head of them, to support general Washington, until a 
tlying camp of ten thousand men was raised. On his 
return to Philadelphia, he found he had been elected a 
member of the convention for forming a constitution for 
the state of Delaware. He proceeded to Newcastle, and 
wrote in a tavern, without a book, or any assistance, the 
< onstitution which was afterwards adopted. 

His commission, as chief justice of Pennsylvania, was 
dated July 28, 1777. During the progress of the revo- 
lution, Philadelphia being the seat of government of the 
states, and an object of peculiar watchfulness on the part 
of the enemy, the just performance of Mr. M'Kean's ju- 
dicial functions required not only the learning of the 
lawyer, but the unyielding spirit of the patriot. We find 
hhn proclaiming from the bench the law of justice and 
his country, with distinguished learning, ability and in- 
tegrity. Regardless of the powers of the crown of Great 
Britain, he did not hesitate to hazard his own life, by 
causing to be punished, even unto death, those who were 
proved to be traitors to their country, while he demon- 
strated that popular excitement against individuals ac- 
cused of offences, could not in the slightest degree divert 
him from the sound and inflexible discharge of his pub- 
lic duty. It was energy, tempered with justice and hu- 
manity, that carried us triumphantly through the terrible 
conflict. 

Having passed through the trying scenes of the revo- 
lution, with the well-earned and undisputed reputation 
of being one of the most unwavering and efficient whigs 
of the times, he devoted himself to the discharge of the 
2 c 



302 MCKEAN, 

duties of chief justice, until the year 1799, when he was 
elected governor of the commonwealth of Pennsylvania* 
Of his judicial character, we have not room to speak at 
large. In all the qualifications of the judge, however, 
it may, without hesitation, be said, that he had few equals 
in this or any other country. They who remember the 
supreme court of Pennsylvania while he presided there, 
speak of the dignity which it preserved, and the reve- 
rence which it inspired ; and his judicial opinions, at a 
period when the law of the state was unsettled, and when 
a master mind was requisite to reduce it to a system, 
have established for him the reputation of being one of 
the ablest lawyers of his country. To the present day, 
his memory is held in the courts, in the most profound 
respect and veneration, and successive judges have, by 
their unvarying testimony, given unfading lustre to his 
judicial fame. In 1790, he was a member of the con- 
vention which framed the constitution of Pennsylvania. 
The best talents of the state were engaged in this im- 
portant work, and among them, the force of Mr. 
M'Kean's knowledge and opinions was felt and justly 
appreciated. 

In 1799, he was elected governor of Pennsylvania. His 
election was the result of a warm conflict betw^een the 
two great parties which were then assuming those dis- 
tinct political ranks, into which, for many years, the 
people of our country continued to be divided. His 
success was the precursor of Mr. Jefferson's elevation 
to the presidency; and during the whole period of that 
gentleman's administration, the weight of Mr. M'Kean's 
opinions and conduct was directed to the upholding of 
the principles which marked the policy of the general 
government. Such is the nature of the constitution of 
Pennsylvania, with respect to the powers of the gover- 
nor, that party spirit will be roused, and the feelings 
of individuals, governed by personal interest, will be 
exhibited during every administration. Whatever, there- 
fore, may have been the opinions of some, with regard 
to governor M'Kean's administration, while they were 
under the excitement of the personal feelings of hope 
or disappointment, yet, during the whole constitutional 
period of nine years, the people were with him, and 



MONTGOMERY. 303 

at this day, when his conduct is viewed through the 
medium of candour and truth, it is not denied, that thai 
administration was marked by uncommon ability, and 
with great benefit to the state. His messages to the dif- 
ferent legislative assemblies, are characterized by pecu- 
liar elegance and force of language, and are replete with 
the soundest maxims of political wisdom, and the clear- 
est practical views of the policy of the government. 

During the whole of his life, he was remarkable for 
the most unbending integrity of character. He possessed 
a qualification which has been justly noticed, as a dis- 
tinguished trait in the character of Washington ; a de- 
termination to do what he thought best for the interest 
of the state, without regard to the clamour of ignorance 
or of discontent. Independent of the opinion which the 
narrow-minded, but self-sufficient, might please to adopt 
with regard to him, he was willing to be judged by the 
consequences of his actions, however remote those con- 
sequences might be. 

In person, Mr. M'Kean was tall, erect, and well form- 
ed. His countenance, in a remarkable manner, bespoke 
the firmness and intelligence for which he was distin- 
guished. His manners were impressive and dignified. 
He retired, in 1808, from the cares of a long life, faith- 
fully, ably, and successfully, devoted to the service of bis 
country; and for the remainder of his days, enjoyed, in 
the peaceful pursuits of science and literature, the con- 
sciousness of a well-earned and honourable fame. 

He died at his mansion, in Philadelphia, on the 24th 
of June, 1817, in the eighty-fourth year of his age. 

He had outlived all the enmities which an active and 
conspicuous part in public affairs had, in the nature of 
things, created; and his memory will be cherished as 
that of one of the most useful, among the able and vir- 
tuous fathers of a mighty republic. 



MONTGOMERY, Richard, a major-general in the 
army of the United States, in the revolutionary war, was 



304 MONTGOMERY, 

born in the north of Ireland, in the year 1737. He 
possessed an excellent genius, which was matured by a 
fine education. Entering the army of Great Britain, he 
successfully fought her battles with Wolfe, at Quebec, 
1759, and on the very spot, where he was doomed to fall, 
when fighting against her, under the banners of freedom. 
After his return to England, he quitted his regiment in 
1772, though in a fair way to preferment. He had im- 
bibed an attachment to America, viewing it as the rising 
seat of arts and freedom. After his arrival in this coun- 
try, he purchased an estate in New York, about a hun- 
dred miles from the city, and married a daughter of 
judge Livingston. He now considered himself as an 
American. When the struggle with Great Britain com- 
menced, as he w^as known to have an ardent attachment 
to liberty, and had expressed his readiness to draw his 
sword on the side of the colonies, the command of the con- 
tinental forces in the northern department was intrusted 
to him and general Schuyler, in the fall of 1775. By the 
indisposition of Schuyler, the chief command devolved 
upon him in October. He reduced fort Chamblee, and 
on the third of November, captured St. John's. On the 
12th he took Montreal. Leaving a few troops in Mon- 
treal, he despatched several detachments into the pro- 
vince, encouraging the Canadians to forward on provi- 
sions, and proceeded with expedition to Quebec. He 
formed a junction at Point-Aux-Trembles with colonel 
Arnold, who had been despatched through the wilder- 
ness with a body of troops from the American army at 
Cainbridge. The combined forces commenced the siege 
of the capital on the first of December, prior to which 
general Montgomery sent in a summons to governor 
Carlton, to surrender, in order to avoid the horrors of a 
storm. The flag was fired upon and returned. Means, 
however, were devised, by which the summons was con- 
veyed to the inhabitants, but Carlton evinced astonishing 
inflexibility and firmness of mind on this trying occasion. 
The bombardment was soon after begun from five small 
mortars, but with very little effect. In a few days gene- 
ral Montgomery opened a six gun battery, about seven 
hundred yards distant from the walls, but his pieces 
were of too small calibre to make any impression. Con- 



I 



MONTGOMERY. 305 

vinced that the siege must soon be raised, or the place 
be stormed, the general decided on the latter, although 
he esteemed success but barely within the grasp of pos- 
sibility. He was induced to adopt this measure in order 
to meet the expectations of the whole colonies, who look- 
ed up to him for the speedy reduction of that province, 
which would be completed by the capture of the capital. 
The upper town was strongly fortified, the access to 
which from the lower town was very difficult on account 
of its almost perpendicular steepness. His confidence 
in the ardour of his troops, and a thirst for glory, induced 
him to make the assault, or perish in the attempt. The 
garrison of Quebec consisted of about 1520 men, viz. 
800 militia, 450 seamen, and the remainder marines and 
regulars. The Americans consisted of only eight hun- 
dred. 

The siege having been for some time ineffectually car- 
ried on, the last day of the year was determined for the 
assault. The morn was ushered in with a fall of snow. 
The general divided his little force into four detach- 
ments. Colonel Livingston, at the head of the Canadians, 
was directed to make a feint against St. John's Gate; 
and major Brown, another against Cape Diamond, in 
the upper town, while himself and Arnold should ad- 
vance against the lower town, the first object of real at- 
tack. Montgomery advanced at the head of the New 
York troops, along the St. Lawrence, and having assist- 
ed with his own hands in pulling up the pickets, which 
obstructed his approach to the second barrier, which he 
was determined to force, when the only guns that were 
fired from the battery of the astonished enemy, killed 
him and his two aids. The spot where general Mont- 
gomery fell, is a place a little above Frazer's wharf, un- 
der Cape Diamond. The road there is extremely narrow, 
and will not admit of more than five people to walk 
abreast. A barrier had been made across the road, and 
from the windows of a low house, which formed part of 
it, were planted two cannon. At his appearing upon a 
little rising ground, at the distance of about twenty or 
thirty yards, they were discharged. He and his two aids- 
de-camp fell at the same time, and thence rolled upon 
the ice in the river, which always forms, in the winter, 
2 c 2 



306 MONTGOMERY. 

upon its side. The next morning, a party being sent oat 
to pick up the dead, he was discovered among the slain. 
He was immediately taken to the prison where the Ame- 
ricans were confined, as they had denied his death ; upon 
which they acknowledged him, and burst into tears. 
The same night he was buried by a few soldiers, without 
any kind of distinction whatever, at the corner of the 
powder-house, near port Louis. The lieutenant-gover- 
nor of Quebec, Mr. Cramche, having served with him 
in the British army, was induced, by the persuasions of 
a lady, who was afterwards Mrs. Cramche, to order him 
a coffin, but made in the roughest manner. The other 
officers were indiscriminately thrown with their clothes 
on, into the same grave with their men. As there was 
a great quantity of snow on the ground, and the earth 
was frozen very hard, it was impossible to dig the graves 
very deep, and of course the bodies were but slightly 
covered. On the thawing of the snow in the ensuing 
spring, many of them appeared above ground, and be- 
came offensive. They were, however, again buried, on 
general Carlton's being made acquainted with the cir- 
cumstance. 

He was thirty-eight years of age. He was a man of 
great military talents, whose measures were taken with 
judgment, and executed with vigour. With undisci- 
plined troops, who were jealous of him in the extreme, 
he yet inspired them with his own enthusiasm. He 
shared with them in all their hardships, and thus pre- 
vented their complaints. His industry could not be 
wearied, his vigilance imposed upon, nor his courage 
intimidated. Above the pride of opinion, when a mea- 
sure was adopted by the majority, though contrary to 
his judgment, he gave it his full support. 

The following character of general Montgomery we 
copy from Ramsay's History of the American Revolu- 
tion: 

" Few men have ever fallen in battle, so much regret- 
ted by both sides, as general Montgomery. His many 
amiable qualities had procured him an uncommon share 
of private affection, and his great abilities an equal pro- 
portion of public esteem. Being a sincere lover of liber- 
ty, he had engaged in the American cause from principle. 



MONTGOMERY. 307 

and quitted the enjoyment of an easy fortune, and the 
highest domestic felicity, to take an active share in the 
fatigues and dangers of a war, instituted for the defence 
of the community of which he was an adopted member. 
His well known character was almost equally esteemed 
by the friends and foes of the side which he had espous- 
ed. In America, he was celebrated as a martyr to the 
liberties of mankind ; in Great Britain, as a misguided 
good man, sacrificing to what he supposed to be the 
rights of his country. His name was mentioned in par- 
liament with singular respect. Some of the most pow- 
erful speakers in that assembly, displayed their eloquence 
in sounding his praise, and lamenting his fate. Those 
in particular who had been his fellow soldiers in the pre- 
vious war, expatiated on his many virtues. The minis- 
ter himself acknowledged his worth, while he reprobated 
the cause for which he fell. He concluded an involuntary 
panegyric, by saying, 'Curse on jiis virtues, they have 
undone his country.' " 

To express the high sense entertained by his country 
of his services, congress directed a monument of white 
marble, with a suitable inscription on it, to be erected, 
which was placed in front of St. Paul's church. New 
York. 

The remains of general Montgomery, after resting 
forty-two years at Quebec, by a resolve of the state of 
New York, were brought to the city of New York, on 
the 8th of July, 1818, and deposited, with ample form, 
and grateful ceremonies, near the aforesaid monument 
in St. Paul's church. 

The removal of the remains was left by his excellency, 
governor Clinton, to the family of the deceased, and 
colonel L.Livingston, (a nephew of general Montgomery,) 
proceeded to Quebec for the purpose. They were iden- 
tified by the faithful hand of an honest and ingenious old 
soldier, who attended the funeral, and whose retentive 
memory, almost half a century after that mournful era, 
was yet spared to direct the hand of affection to that 
hallowed turf. Montgomery was the personal and inti- 
mate friend of the lieutenant-general of the Canadas; 
was recognised by him after the battle, and favoured with 



308 MOlh-GOMERY. 

a coffin and a decent interment. He was buried within 
the walls of the city. 

The coffin which contained the remains had not fallen 
to pieces. It appears to have been of a rough structure, 
with a silver plate on its lid. There was no inscription 
visible on the plate. The anatomy was in a perfect state 
of preservation. The skeleton of the head, with the ex- 
ception of the under jaw, which was shot away, was per- 
fect. Three teeth of the under jaw were together. 

The remains were taken up with great care by colonel 
Livingston, and secured by binding a tarpaulin close 
round the old coffin, and enclosing them in an iron bound 
chest. 

At Troy they took them from the box and tar cloth, 
and enclosed them, together with the original coffin, in 
a most splendid mahogany coffin, with an appropriate 
inscription, elegantly engraved upon a silver plate, placed 
on its lid. 

This patriotic act of the state of New York, redounds 
much to its honour. 

The following just remarks were made in the Albany 
Register on this occasion: 

"The hallowed remains of our beloved Montgomery 
are removed from a foreign land, where, for near forty- 
three years^ they have reposed " unknowing and unknown. " 
From all the busy world who have listened to a relation 
of his patriotism, his devotion and his valour, from the 
host of thousands, who saw with amazement the might 
of his Herculean arm, when raised in the cause of liber- 
ty, one, one only^ could point to the sod, under whose 
favoured pall our hero slept. That country to which his 
manly and generous soul was so exclusively devoted, has 
received its decaying fragments of mortality to its bosom. 
In consigning these sacred manes to the protection of 
our common mother, a grateful people will cherish in 
their hearts a sweet remembrance of his virtues, with 
an embittered regret at his untimely fate. 

" We have now, in relation to one of the fathers of our 
country, redeemed our character from the imputation of 
INGRATITUDE. All this was duc to the bereaved, discon- 
solate, and venerable companion of our fallen chieftain's 
bosom, and infinitely more was due to the memory and 



MORGAN. 309 

remains of the devoted martyr, on the sacred and im- 
perishable altar of Freedom. 

The age-stricken widow of our hero yet lives to see 
the loved remains of her's and her country's Montgo- 
mery, removed from the plains of the crimsoned Abra- 
ham, and deposited in the bowels of a country, at the 
shrine of whose welfare he proffered all the warmth of 
his soul, all the energies of his mind, and all the mighti- 
ness of his strength." 



MORGAN, Daniel, brigadier-general of the Virgi- 
nia line, in the revolutionary war, deservedly ranked 
among the best and most efficient officers of the United 
States, was born in Durham township, Bucks county, 
Pennsylvania, from whence he emigrated to New Jersey, 
and from thence to Virginia, in 1755. Like many of the 
greatest men of every country, his native condition was 
indigent, so much so as to render it necessary for young 
Morgan to enter into service as a labourer for daily 
wages. 

Soon after his arrival in Virginia he obtained employ- 
ment from farmer Roberts, near Charleston, in the county 
of Jefferson, (then Berkley.) Afterwards he was engaged 
to drive a wagon for John Ashley, overseer for Na- 
thaniel Burrell, Esq., at his estate on the Shenandoah 
river, in Frederic county, near Berry's ferry. When he 
left Ashley, Morgan had, by his care and industry, 
amassed enough cash to purchase a wagon and team, 
which he did, and soon afterwards entered with it into 
the employment of Mr. John Ballantine, at his establish- 
ment on Occoquan creek. At the expiration of his year, 
Braddock's expedition was spoken of as an event cer- 
tainly to take place in the course of the ensuing summer. 
Morgan reserved himself, wagon, £cc. for this expedi- 
tion ; when he joined the army, but in what character is 
not known. 

He received, during his military service, a severe 
wound in the face, the scar of which was through life 



310 MORGAN. 

very visible. We do not understand in what affair this 
happened; but it was from a rifle or musket, aimed, as 
he said himself, by an Indian. The bullet entered the 
back of his neck, and passed through his left cheek, 
knocking out all his hind teeth on that side. 

In the course of the campaign he was unjustly punish- 
ed, by being brought to the halbert, under a charge of 
contumely to a British oflicer, where he received five 
hundred lashes. The officer being afterwards convinced 
of his cruel error, made every amend in his power to the 
maltreated Morgan; who, satisfied with the contrition 
evinced by the officer, magnanimously forgave him. Nor 
did the recollection of this personal outrage operate in 
the least to the prejudice of the British officers in the 
revolutionary war. Many of them, as is well known, fell 
into the hands of Morgan, and invariably received from 
him compassionate and kind treatment. 

The general would often, among his intimate friends, 
recur to this circumstance, the narrative whereof he ge- 
nerally concluded by saying, in a jocular way, that " king 
George was indebted to him one lash yet; for the drum- 
mer miscounted one, and he knew well when he did it; 
so that he only received four hundred and ninety-nine, 
when he promised him five hundred." 

When he returned from Braddock's expedition, he 
re-assumed his former employment, and drove his own 
wagon. In a few years his previous savings, added to 
the little he earned in the campaign, enabled him to pur- 
chase a small tract of land from a Mr. Blackburn, in 
the county of Frederic, on which, during our war, he 
erected a handsome mansion house, with suitable accom- 
panying improvements, and called it Saratoga, in com- 
memoration of the signal victory obtained by general 
Gates, to which he had himself principally contributed. 
On this farm, Morgan, having married shortly after his 
return from his military tour, resided when the revolu- 
tionary war broke out. 

The smattering of experience gained during Brad- 
dock's expedition, pointed him out to the leading men 
of Frederic, as qualified to command the first company 
of riflemen raised in that county in defence of our coun- 
try. He speedily completed his company, as all the finest 



MORGAN. 3 1 I 

youth of Frederic flocked to him; among whom was lieu- 
tenant, afterwards colonel Heth, and many others, who 
in the course of the war became approved officers. With 
this company, Morgan hastened to the American army 
encamped before Boston, in 1774; and soon afterwards 
was detached by the commander in chief under Arnold, 
in his memorable expedition against Quebec. 

The bold and disastrous assault, planned and executed 
by the celebrated Montgomery against that city, gave 
opportunity for the display of heroism to individuals, 
and furnished cause of deep regret to the nation by the 
loss of the much beloved Montgomery. No officer more 
distinguished himself than did captain Morgan. Arnold 
commanded the column to which Morgan was attached, 
who became disabled by a ball through his leg early in 
the action, and was carried off to a place of safety. 

Our troops having lost their leader, each corps press- 
ed forward as the example of its officer invited. Morgan 
took the lead, and preceded by sergeant, afterwards lieu- 
tenant-colonel, Potterfield, who unfortunately fell at the 
battle of Camden, when his life might have saved an 
army; mounted the first barrier, and rushing forward, 
passed the second barrier, lieutenant Heth and sergeant 
Potterfield only before him. In this point of the assault, 
a group of noble spirits united in surmounting the 
obstacles opposed to our progress; among them was 
Greene and Thayer of Rhode Island, Hendricks of Penn- 
sylvania, and Humphreys of Virginia; the two last of 
whom were killed. 

Vain was this blaze of glory. Montgomery's fall stop- 
ped the further advance of the principal column of at- 
tack ; and the severity of the raging storm, the obstacles 
of nature and of art in our way, and the combined attack 
of the enemy's force, no longer divided by attention to 
the column of Montgomery, overpowered all resistance. 
Morgan, with most of the corps of Arnold, was taken ; 
and experienced a diffiirent treatment from sir Guy 
Carlton, than was at that period customary for British 
officers to dispense to American prisoners. The kind- 
ness of Carlton, from motives of policy, applied more 
forcibly to the privates than to our officers, and produced 
a durable impression. 



312 MORGAN. 

While Morgan was in confinement at Quebec, the fol- 
lowing anecdote, told by himself, manifests the high 
opinion entertained by the enemy of his military talents 
from his conduct in this assault. He was visited occa- 
sionally by a British officer, to him unknown ; but from 
his uniform, he appeared to belong to the navy, and to 
be an officer of distinction. During one of his visits, 
after conversing upon many topics, " he asked Morgan 
if he did not begin to be convinced that the resistance 
of America was visionary ? and he endeavoured to im- 
press him with the disastrous consequences which must 
infallibly ensue, if the idle attempt was persevered in, 
and very kindly exhorted him to renounce the ill-advised 
undertaking. He declared, with seeming sincerity and 
candour, his admiration of Morgan's spirit and enter- 
prise, which he said was worthy of a better cause ; and 
told him, if he would agree to withdraw from the Ame- 
rican, and join the British standard, he was authorized 
to promise him the commission, rank, and emoluments, 
of a colonel in the royal army." Morgan rejected the 
proposal with disdain ; and concluded his reply, by ob- 
serving, " That he hoped he would never again insult 
him in his distressed and unfortunate situation, by mak- 
ing him offers which plainly implied that he thought 
him a rascal." The officer withdrew, and the offer was 
never repeated. 

As soon as our prisoners were exchanged, Morgan 
hastened to the army ; and by the recommendations of 
general Washington, was appointed to the command of 
a regiment. In this station he acted under the command- 
er in chief, in 1777, when a select rifle corps was formed 
out of the others in the army, and committed to his di- 
rection, seconded by lieutenant-colonel Richard Butler, 
of Pennsylvania, and major Morris, of New Jersey, two 
officers of high talents, and specially qualified for the 
enterprising service to which they were assigned. Mor- 
gan and his riflemen were singularly useful to Washing- 
ton ; but our loss of Ticonderoga, and the impetuous 
advance of Burgoyne, proclaimed so loudly the gloomy 
condition of our affairs in the north, that the general, 
who thought only of the public good, deprived himself 



MORGAN'. ol3 

of Morgan, and sent him to Gates, where he was per- 
suaded his services were most required. 

The splendid part he acted on that occasion, and how 
much his exertions contributed to the glorious triumph 
achieved afterwards, are circumstances generally known. 

After the return of Morgan to the main army, he con- 
tinued actively employed by the commander in chief, 
and never failed to promote the good of the service by 
his sagacity, his vigilance, and his perseverance. In 
1780, his health became much impaired, and he obtained 
leave of absence, when he returned to his family in Frede- 
ric, where he continued until after the fall of Charleston. 

When general Gates was called to the chief command 
in the south, he visited Morgan, and urged the colonel 
to accompany him. Morgan did not conceal his dissatis- 
faction at the treatment he had heretofore received, and 
proudly spoke of the important aid he had rendered to 
him, and the ungrateful return he had experienced. Be- 
ing some few weeks afterwards promoted by congress 
to the rank of brigadier-general by brevet, with a view 
of detaching him to the south, he repaired to the army 
of Gates, but did not reach Carolina in time to take a 
part in the battle of Camden. He joined Gates at Hills- 
borough, and was sent under Smallwood to Salisbury, 
with all the force fitted for service. Gales, as soon as he 
had prepared the residue of his army, followed, and gave 
to Morgan, in his arrangements for ihe field, the com- 
mand of the light troops. 

Greene now arrived as the successor of Gates, which 
was followed by that distribution of his force which led 
to the battle of the Cowpens ; the influence of which 
was felt in every subsequent step of the war in the Caro- 
linas. 

The following account of the battle of the CoM'pens, 
we copy from Ramsay's History of the American Revo- 
lution. 

" Lieutenant-colonel Tarleton was detached by lord 
Cornwallis, in pursuit of Morgan, with eleven hundred 
men, and to * push him to the utmost.* He had two field 
pieces, and a superiority of infantry in the proportion of 
five to four, and of cavalry in the proportion of three to 
one. Besides this inequality of force, two-thirds of th«5 
2 D 



314 MORGAN- 

troops under general Morgan were militia. With these 
fair prospects of success, Tarleton engaged Morgan at 
the Cowpens, with the expectation of driving him out of 
South Carolina. The latter drew up his men in two 
lines. The whole of the southern militia, with one hun- 
dred and ninety from North Carolina, were put under 
the command of colonel Pickens. These formed the first 
line, and were advanced a few hundred yards before the 
second, with orders to form on the right of the second, 
when forced to retire. The second line consisted of the 
light infantry, and a corps of Virginia militia riflemen. 
Lieutenant-colonel Washington with his cavalry, and 
about forty-five militia men, mounted and equipped with 
swords, were drawn up at some distance in the rear of 
the whole. The open wood in which they were formed, 
was neither secured in front, flank, or rear. On the side 
of the British, the light legion infantry fusileers, though 
worn down with extreme fatigue, were ordered to form 
in line. Before this order was executed, the line, though 
far from being complete, was led to the attack by Tarle- 
ton himself. They advanced with a shout, and poured 
in an incessant fire of musketry. Colonel Pickens di- 
rected the men under his command to restrain their fire, 
till the British were within forty or fifty yards. This 
order, though executed with great firmness, was not suf- 
ficient to repel their advancing foes. The militia fell 
back. The British advanced and engaged the second 
line, which after an obstinate conflict was compelled to 
retreat to the cavalry. In this crisis lieutenant-colonel 
Washington made a successful charge on captain Ogil- 
vie, who, with about forty dragoons, was cutting down 
the militia, and forced them to retreat in confusion. 
Lieutenant-colonel Howard, almost at the same moment, 
rallied the continental troops, and charged with fixed 
bayonets. The example was instantly followed by the 
militia. Nothing could exceed the astonishment and 
confusion of the British, occasioned by these unexpected 
charges. Their advance fell back on their rear, and com- 
municated a panic to the whole. Two hundred and fifty 
horse which had not been engaged, fled with precipita- 
tion. The pieces of artillery were seized by the Ame- 
ricans, and the greatest confusion took place among the 



MORGAN. 



infantry. While they were in this state of disorder, lieu- 
tenant-colonel Howard called to them, to *• lay down 
their arms," and promised them good quarter. Some 
hundreds accepted the offer and surrendered. The first 
battalion of the 71st, and two British light infanty com- 
panies, laid down their arms to the American militia. 
A party which had been left some distance in the rear 
to guard the baggage, was the only body of infantry that 
escaped. The officer of that detachment, on hearing of 
Tarleton's defeat, destroyed a great part of his baggage, 
and retreated to lord Cornwallis. Upwards of three hun- 
dred of the British were killed or wounded, and above 
five hundred prisoners were taken. Eight hundred mus- 
kets, two field pieces, thirty-five baggage wagons, and 
one hundred dragoon horses, fell into the hands of the 
conquerors. The Americans had only twelve men killed 
and sixty wounded. 

" General Morgan's good conduct on this memorable 
day, was honoured by congress with a gold medal. They 
also presented medals of silver to lieutenant-colonels 
Washington and Howard, a sword to colonel Pickens, 
a brevet-majority to Edward Giles, the general's aid-de- 
camp, and a captaincy to baron Glassbeck. Lieutenant- 
colonel Tarleton, hitherto triumphant in a variety of 
skirmishes, on this occasion lost his laurels, though he 
was supported by the 7th regiment, one battalion of the 
71st, and two companies of light infantry; and his re- 
pulse did more essential injury to the British interest, 
than was equivalent to all the preceding advantages he 
had gained. It was the first link in a chain of causes 
which finally drew down ruin, both in North and South 
Carolina, on the royal interest." 

The victory of the Cowpens was to the south, what 
that of Bennington had been to the north. General Mor- 
gan, whose former services had placed him high in pub- 
Tic estimation, was now deservedly ranked among the 
most illustrious defenders of his country. Starke fought 
an inferior, Morgan a superior foe. The former contend- 
ed with a German corps ; the latter with the elite of the 
southern army, composed of British troops. Starke was 
nobly seconded by colonel Warner and his continentals; 
Morgan derived very great aid from Pickens and his 



316 MORGAN. 

militia, and was effectually supported by Howard and 
Washington. The weight of the battle fell on Howard ; 
who sustained himself gloriously in trying circum- 
stances, and seized with decision the critical moment to 
complete with the bayonet the advantage gained by his 
fire. 

Greene was now appointed to the command of the 
south. After the battle of the Cowpens, a controversy- 
ensued between that general and Morgan, as to the route 
which the latter should observe in his retreat. He in- 
sisted on passing the mountains ; a salutary precaution, 
if applied to himself, but which was at the same time 
fatal to the operations of Greene. He informed the ge- 
neral that if that route was denied him, he would not be 
responsible for the consequences. " Neither shall you,** 
replied the restorer of the south : " I will assume them 
all on myself. *' Morgan continued in his command until 
the two divisions of the army united at Guilford court- 
house, when neither persuasion, entreaty, nor excite- 
ment, could induce him to remain in the service any 
longer. He retired and devoted himself exclusively to 
the improvement of his farm and of his fortune. 

He remained here, in the bosom of retirement, at 
Frederic, until he was summoned by president Wash- 
ington to repress, by the force of the bayonet, the insur- 
rection in the western counties of Pennsylvania. The 
executive of Virginia then detached Morgan to take the 
field, at the head of the militia of that state. 

Upon the retreat of the main body, Morgan remained 
in the bosom of the insurgents, until the ensuing spring, 
when he received orders from the president to withdraw. 
For the first time in his life, he now appears to have en- 
tertained ideas of political distinction. Baffted in his 
first attempt, he succeeded in his second, and was elect- 
ed a member of the house of representatives of the 
United States, for the district of Frederic. Having served 
out the constitutional term, he declined another election. 
His health being much impaired, and his constitution 
gradually sinking, he removed from Saratoga to the 
scene of his juvenile years, Berrysville, (Battletown,) and 
from thence to Winchester, where he closed bis long, 
laborious, and useful life. 



MOULTRIE. 317 

Brigadier Morgan, was stout and active, six feet in 
height, not too much incumbered with flesh, and was 
exactly fitted for the toils and pomp of war. His mind 
was discriminating and solid, but not comprehensive 
and combining. His manners plain and decorous, nei- 
ther insinuating nor repulsive. His conversation grave, 
sententious, and considerate, unadorned and uncaptivat- 
ing. He reflected deeply, spoke little, and executed with 
keen perseverance whatever he undertook. He was in- 
dulgent in his military command, preferring always the 
affection of his troops, to that dread and awe which sur- 
round the rigid disciplinarian. 

No man ever lived who better loved this world, and 
no man more reluctantly quitted it : yet no man valued 
less his life than Morgan, when duty called him to meet 
his foe. Stopped neither by danger nor by difficulty, he 
rushed into the hottest of the battle, enamoured with the 
glory which encircles victory. 

General Morgan, like thousands of mortals, when 
nearly worn out by the hand of time, resorted for men- 
tal comfort to the solace of religion. He manifested 
great penitence for the follies of his early life ; this was 
followed by joining the presbyterian church, in full com- 
munion with which he continued to his last day. 






MOULTRIE, William, a major-general in the revo- 
lutionary war, was devoted to the service of his country 
at an early period of his life. An Englishman by birth, 
he had, like many others of his countrymen, fled from 
the tyranny and oppression of the old world, and sought 
freedom and security in the new. At the commence- 
ment of the opposition to the measures of the British 
ministry, he stood high in the estimation of his fellow- 
citizens of Carolina ; and his name is found, in every 
convention which assembled at Charleston, for the pur- 
pose of devising ways and means of resisting those en- 
croachments on the rights of the citizen which were first 
attempted at Boston, and which, with the noiseless tread 
2 D 2 



318 MOULTRIE. 

of the savage, assailed the person and habitation of every 
American with the toils of slavery, and the dagger of 
violation. It was from the spirited exertions of the Rut- 
ledges, Pinckneys, Middleton and Moultrie, that Caro- 
lina was found among the first of her sister states in 
exposing herself to the terrors of the raging and warring 
elements of that time. On the llth of January, 1775, 
the first provincial congress, as it was then called, of 
South Carolina, assembled at Charleston. It was a bright 
and splendid assemblage of talents, patriotism and he- 
roism, and Moultrie was a distinguished member of it. 
The unanimity which marked their proceedings, and 
the fixed and resolute assertion of their rights and pri- 
vileges, and the manly and heroic devotion which they 
manifested in subscribing to the association recommend- 
ed by the congress at Philadelphia, sufficiently testify 
that they were worthy to be the fathers of Carolinian 
liberty. 

Every thing wore the appearance of war, but hostili- 
ties had not yet even entered into the minds of our fore- 
fathers. In supplication and the assertion of their rights, 
supported by arguments, completely unanswerable, it 
was hoped and believed, that British violence would be 
convinced, and yield that prerogative right of oppression 
which she had claimed. But the battle of Lexington 
was the tocsin of alarm ; and the groans of the dying 
freeman demanded vengeance for himself, and security 
for his offspring, from his country : in consequence of 
which, the provincial congress of South Carolina again 
assembled at Charleston, on the first of June, 1775, and 
immediately determined on raising two regiments of 
foot and one of rangers, for the defence of the province ; 
and of the second regiment Moultrie was nominated the 
colonel. Measures were taken to provide powder, and 
the other necessary implements of war. Difficult was 
the undertaking, but glorious the result. Embalmed in 
the affections of their countrymen are the memories of 
the gallant and noble few, who first trod the ramparts 
of liberty. They have departed from among us, and it 
is now indeed but seldom that our eyes are blessed with 
the sight, and our hearts improved by the recognition 
of the gray hairs of the revolution. 



MOULTRIE. 319 

The regiments which were ordered to be raised were 
soon completed, and every measure which prudence 
could dictate to prevent disaffection from attempting 
any thing within, and to repel invasion from without, 
was accomplished. In the execution of these measures 
of prudence, colonel Moultrie was always found the 
prompt and efficient officer. About the last of this year, 
1775, that spirit of disaffection which had hitherto lain 
dormant, began to manifest itself in the upper part of 
the country. In the district of Ninety-Six, the insur- 
gents collected in large bodies, and, after a warm and 
obstinate action, besieged colonel Williamson in his for- 
tified camp. To quell this insurrection, and repel any 
invasion which might be attempted, was indeed a diffi- 
cult task, and one from which most men would shrink 
in despair. But our forefathers dared attempt it, and 
succeeded. The tories were compelled to abandon the 
siege of Williamson's camp, and to remain for a time 
quiet spectators of the passing events. For the better 
securing the harbour of Charleston, Moultrie erected a 
fascine battery on Sullivan's Island, which afterwards 
bore his name. The English now began seriously to 
think of invading South Carolina, and fitted out accord- 
ingly a large naval armament from New York, the com- 
mand of which was given to commodore Parker. It was 
now that war seemed about to pounce upon South Caro- 
lina as his prey. The husbandman was seen deserting 
his farm, and hastening to Charleston to protect his 
country. " The noisy drum and ear-piercing fife," were 
heard on every breeze, and the lengthening columns, 
which proceeded to her aid from her sister states, gave 
" awful note of preparation and suspense." Lee and 
Armstrong, two gallant leaders of the American forces, 
marshalled the armies, and gave directions to the pa- 
triotic ardour of the Carolinians. But where is Moul- 
trie ? In the battery, on Sullivan's Island, he may be 
seen toiling, and directing the energies of his regiment 
to the completion of their works. Hastily erected, and 
apparently incapable of resistance, the gallant command- 
er was advised to abandon it, and told, that the British 
ships would knock it down in half an hour ; but his truly 
Spartan reply, " We will lay behind the ruins, and pre- 



320 MOULTRIE. 

vent their men from landing," showed the spirit of Le- 
onidas, and that he was worthy to command the Ther- 
mopylae of his country. 

On the 28th of June, 1776, the British fleet commenced 
an attack on fort Moultrie. The great and unequal con- 
flict was met by the gallant Moultrie, with a firm and 
unyielding front. The raw and undisciplined troops of 
Carolina sustained from eight ships of the British navy 
an incessant cannonade for ten hours. But during that 
time none were seen to waver. Animated by the pre- 
sence of their gallant commander, all were heroes ; and 
their guns, pointed with deliberation, poured a slow but 
certain havoc over the decks of the enemy's vessels. 
One spirit, victory or death, pervaded every rank ; even 
the wounded and the dying cheered and encouraged their 
comrades to perseverance. It was, indeed, a scene to fill 
every bosom. The wharves of Charleston were lined 
with crowds of anxious citizens, listening, in death-like 
silence to every gun, and watching, in an agony of hope 
and fear, every motion of Moultrie's flag. There, loo, 
were assembled, the wives and children of the defenders 
of the fort. Every thing depended on the issue of the 
contest. Domestic happiness and liberty held their man- 
tles high over their heads, and under such a covering, 
victory and triumph were certain. 

For the gallant defence at fort Moultrie, the command- 
er and his little band were entitled to, and received the 
evidences of the warmest gratitude of their country. To 
the female patriotism of Mrs. Elliott, they were indebted 
for the present of a pair of colours, made sacred by the 
language of the fair donor; that she " had no doubt but 
that they would stand by them, as long as they could 
wave in the air of liberty." The belief was not vain; 
those colours were wet with the expiring blood of Bush, 
Hume, Gray, and the gallant Jasper ; and until Charles- 
ton fell, they waved in the van of the Carolina army. 

After the signal repulse of the enemy from Sullivan's 
Island, the country was left in a state of tranquillity ; and 
the declaration of independence was received at a time 
when exultation had not yet subsided for the recent vic- 
tory, and when every heart was throbbing with the most 
delightful anticipations for the future. South Carolina 



MOULTRIE. 32 1 

sung the song of triumph and victory ; and scarcely had 
the loud and swelling notes expired upon the ear, when 
she chaunted the hymn of liberty and independence. 

Shortly after this time, Moultrie rose to the rank of 
brigadier-general, and was put upon the continental esta- 
blishment. The state continued to enjoy a repose from 
the attacks of the external enemies until the year 1779. 

In the mean time, the state was rent asunder by the 
intrigues of the disaffected; and the infatuated tories 
pulled down the angry vengeance and just chastisement 
of their country, upon their heads. The invasion of 
Georgia, by the British, and the defeat of general Howe 
at Savannah, was the commencement of that deluge of 
calamities which afterwards overwhelmed South Caro- 
lina. The experience of general Lincoln, when opposed 
by the rash and headstrong conduct of the militia, could 
only retard for a time, not entirely dissipate, the ap- 
proaching storm. In the defence of Beaufort, general 
Moultrie displayed his usual sagacity and prudence; he 
repulsed the enemy at all points, and kept themi in check 
with a handful of militia, until it was judged proper for 
him to abandon Beaufort to its fate, and unite himself 
with the main army. Encamped at Parisburg, Lincoln 
and Moultrie, with an army greatly inferior in number-s,- 
composed mostly of militia and raw recruits, opposed 
a steady and never-varying front to the veteran ranks of 
England. It was even determined, with the assistance 
of general Ash, to push the war into Georgia, and by 
one bold movement drive general Provost to the neces- 
sity of surrendering. But the defeat of general Ash's 
army at Blair creek, completely frustrated the plans of 
the American officers, and drove them to the necessity 
of abandoning offensive for defensive war. 

The enemy now endeavoured to approach to Charles- 
ton by land, from Georgia. To their advance, the veteran 
genius of Moultrie was opposed. Like a wounded lion, 
compelled to tread back his steps, his retreat was daring; 
and facing about, he occasionally snatched his prey from 
his pursuers, and made their recoiling ranks tremble for 
their safety. Lincoln, who had previously marched with 
the flower of the army for Augusta, is seen stretching 
forward with a rapid march to gain the rear of the ad- 



322 MOULTRIE. 

vancing enemy, or to unite himself with Moultrie. It 
was a time of difficulty ; every nerve was strained for the 
contest ; the militia could scarcely be induced to turn 
out, and when in service, they deserted the ranks to re- 
turn to their homes, at pleasure. Danger was presenting 
itself at every door, and individual interest was more 
regarded than that of the country. But the exertions of 
Moultrie and governor Rutledge, gathered from all parts 
the citizen yeomanry ; and general Provost, instead of 
finding Charleston an easy prey, found it guarded and 
protected, and the hero of Sullivan's Island presiding 
over all as the genius of safety. A siege was not attempt- 
ed, and the enemy precipitately withdrew from before 
the town. Lincoln now began to draw near, and the 
hitherto pursuing enemy became in their turn the pur- 
sued. 

About this time Moultrie received the commission of 
a major-general in the army of the United States. The 
battle of Stono followed immediately after, which, al- 
though uncertain in the result, was sufficiently evincive 
of the bravery of the American troops, and of the pru- 
dence and gallantry of Moultrie. The enemy, although 
left in possession of the field, did not think proper to re- 
tain the post, but soon after abandoned it, and retired to 
Savannah. The pursuit was conducted by Sheldon and 
Moultrie. He there gave up the command to general 
Lincoln, and returned to Charleston. Fortunately for 
him, his laurels were not blighted by the frost of re- 
pulse, which general Lincoln sustained in the siege of 
Savannah. 

In the year 1780, a third invasion of South Carolina 
was projected, and carried into execution under the com 
mand of sir Henry Clinton. The force was overwhelm- 
ing and irresistible. In vain did Lincoln and Moultrie 
endeavour to check their approach ; in vain did they 
endeavour to retard the works of the besiegers ; Charles- 
ton surrendered to a numerous and well appointed army, 
and her harbour, filled with the fleet of England, after a 
gallant resistance, was obliged to surrender. On the 
12th of May, 1780, Carolina witnessed the mournful 
spectacle of an army of freemen, piling their arms, and 
surrendering themselves prisoners of war. Here ended 



MUHLENBERG. 333 

the career of major-general Moultrie as a military man. 
He remained a prisoner until nearly the close of the 
American war, when he was exchanged at Philadelphia, 
and returned to South Carolina, where he was received 
with proud and enthusiastic joy. His slaves, although 
having every opportunity during the war to abandon his 
service, not one of them done so. On hearing of his 
return, they crowded around their venerable master to 
kiss his hand, and to show their attachment to his per- 
son and fortune, by the tears of rapturous joy which they 
shed, at being once more permitted to behold him. He 
had the pleasure of witnessing the evacuation of Charles- 
ton, shortly after his arrival at home, and of seeing peace 
return " with healing in her wings, and majesty in her 
beams," to irradiate the prospects of America. 

The subsequent life of Moultrie was one of tranquil 
lity, and presents nothing very striking or interesting. 
He was once governor of South Carolina. He died at 
Charleston, September 27, 1805, in the seventy-sixth 
year of his age. 

The character of general Moultrie, as an officer, a 
man, and a citizen, was unexceptionable. The glory of 
his services was surpassed by his disinterestedness and 
integrity. 



MUHLENBERG, Peter, a brave and distinguished 
officer during the revolutionary war, was a native of 
Pennsylvania. In early life he yielded to the wishes of 
his venerable father, the patriarch of the German Lu- 
theran church in Pennsylvania, by becoming a minister 
of the Episcopal church, but participating in the spirit 
of the times, exchanged his clerical profession for that 
of a soldier. Having in his pulpit inculcated the prin- 
ciples of liberty, and the cause of his country, he found 
no difficulty in enlisting a regiment of soldiers, and he 
was appointed their commander. He entered the pulpit 
with his sword and cockade, preached his farewell ser- 



324 MUHLENBERG. 

ition, and the next day marched at the head of his regi- 
ment to join the army. 

In the year 1776 he became a member of the conven- 
tion, and afterwards a colonel of a regiment of that 
state. In the year 1777, he was appointed a brigadier- 
general in the revolutionary army, in which capacity he 
acted until the termination of the war which gave liber- 
ty and independence to his country, at which time he 
was promoted to the rank of major-general. General 
Muhlenberg was a particular favourite of the command- 
er in chief, and he was one of those brave men, in whose 
coolness, decision of character, and undaunted resolu- 
tion, he could ever rely. It has been asserted with some 
degree of confidence, that it was general Muhlenberg 
who commanded the American storming-party at York- 
town, the honour of which station has been attributed, 
by the different histories of the American revolution, to 
another person. It is, however, a well known fact, that 
he acted a distinguished and brave part at the siege of 
Yorktown. 

After the peace, general Muhlenberg was chosen by 
his fellow-citizens of Pennsylvania, to fill in succession 
the various stations of vice-president of the supreme 
executive council of Pennsylvania, member of the house 
of representatives, and senator of the United States ; and 
afterwards appointed by the president of the United 
States, supervisor of the excise in Pennsylvania, and 
finally, collector of the port of Philadelphia, which office 
he held at the time of his death. In all the above mili- 
tary and political distinctions, general Muhlenberg acted 
faithfully to his country and honourably to himself. He 
was brave in the field, and firm in the cabinet. In pri- 
vate life he was strictly just ; in his domestic and social 
attachments, he was affectionate and sincere ; and in his 
intercourse with his fellow citizens, always amiable and 
unassuming. 

He died on the first day of October, 1807, in the sixty- 
second year of his age, at his seat near Schuylkill, 
Montgomery county, Pennsylvania. 



NELSON OTIS. 325 

NELSON, Thomas, governor of Virginia, was a dis- 
tinguished patriot in the revolution, and uniformly ar- 
dent in his attachment to liberty. He was among the 
first of that glorious band of patriots, whose exertions 
dashed and defeated the machinations of British tyranny, 
and gave to America, freedom and independent empire. 
At a most important crisis, during our struggle for 
American liberty, when Virginia appeared to be desig- 
nated as the theatre of action for the contending armies, 
he was selected by the unanimous suffrage of the legis- 
lature, to command the virtuous yeomanry of his coun- 
try ; in which honourable employment he remained to 
the end of the war. As a soldier, he was indefatigably 
active, and coolly intrepid. Resolute and undejected in 
misfortunes, he towered above distress, and struggled 
with the manifold difficulties to which his situation ex- 
posed him, with constancy and courage. 

In the year 1781, when the force of the southern Bri- 
tish array was directed to the immediate subjugation of 
that state, he was called from the helm of government, 
and took the field, at the head of his countrymen. The 
commander in chief, and the officers at the siege of York- 
town, witnessed his merit and attachment to civil and 
religious liberty. He was an intrepid soldier, and an 
able statesman. He died in February, 1789. 



OTIS, James, a distinguished patriot and statesman, 
was the son of the honourable James Otis, of Barnsta- 
ble, Massachusetts, and was graduated at Harvard col- 
lege, in 1743. After pursuing the study of the law 
under Mr. Gridley, the first lawyer and civilian of his 
time, at the age of twenty-one he began the practice at 
Plymouth. In 1761, he distinguished himself by plead- 
ing against the writs of assistance, which the officers of 
the customs had applied for to the judges 6f the supreme 
court. His antagonist was Mr. Gridley. He was in 
this, or the following year, chosen a member of the le- 
gislature of Massachusetts, in which body, the power5 
2 K 



326 OTIS. 

of his eloquence, the keenness of his wit, the force of his 
arguments, and the resources of his intellect, gave him 
a most commanding influence. When the arbitrary- 
claims of Great Britain were advanced, he warmly en- 
gaged in defence of the colonies, and was the first cham- 
pion of American freedom who had the courage to affix 
his name to a production that stood forth against the 
pretensions of the parent state. He was a member of 
the congress which was held at New York, in 1765, in 
which year his Rights of the Colonies Vindicated, a pam- 
phlet, occasioned by the stamp act, and which was con- 
sidered as a masterpiece, both of good writing and of 
argument, was published in London. For the boldness 
of his opinions he was threatened with arrest ; yet he 
continued to support the rights of his fellow citizens. 
He resigned the office of judge advocate in 1767, and 
renounced all employment under an administration 
which had encroached upon the liberties of his country. 
His warm passions sometimes betrayed him into un- 
guarded epithets, that gave his enemies an advantage, 
without benefit to the cause which lay nearest his heart. 
Being villined in the public papers, he in return pub- 
lished some severe strictures on the conduct of the com- 
missioners of the customs, and others of the ministerial 
party. A. short time afterwards, on the evening of the 
5th of September, 1769, he met Mr. John Robinson, one 
of the commissioners, in a public room, and an affray 
followed, in which he was assaulted by a number of ruf- 
fians, who left him and a young gentleman who interpos- 
ed in his defence, covered with wounds. The wounds 
were not mortal, but his usefulness was destroyed, for 
his reason was shaken from its throne, and the great 
man in ruins lived several years, the grief of his friends. 
In an interval of reason he forgave the men who had done 
him an irreparable injury, and relinquished the sum of 
five thousand pounds sterling, which Mr. Robinson had 
b£en, by a civil process, adjudged to pay, on his signing 
an humble acknowledgment. He lived to see, but not 
fully to enjoy, the independence of America, an event 
towards which his efforts had greatly contributed. At 
length, on the twenty-third day of May, 1783, as he was 
leaning on his cane at the door of Mr. Osgood's house 



OTIS. 327 

in Andover, he was struck by a flash of lightning ; his 
soul was instantly liberated from its shattered tenement, 
and sent into eternity. 

It is a singular coincidence, that he often expressed 
a wish for such a fate. He told his sister, Mrs. War- 
ren, after his reason was impaired, "My dear sister, I 
hope when God Almighty in his righteous providence 
shall take me out of time into eternity, that it will be by 
a flash of lightning;" and this idea he often repeated. 

There is a degree of consolation blended with awe in 
the manner of his death, and a soothing fitness in the 
sublime accident which occasioned it. The end of his 
life was ennobled, when the ruins of a great mind, in- 
stead of being undermined by loathsome and obscure 
disease, were demolished at once by a bright bolt from 
heaven. 

His body was taken to Boston, and his funeral was 
attended with every mark of respect, and exhibited one 
of the most numerous processions ever seen in the town. 

Mr. Otis was one of the master-spirits vv^ho began and 
conducted an opposition, which, at first, was only de- 
signed to counteract and defeat an arbitrary administra- 
tion, but which ended in a revolution, emancipated a 
continent, and established by the example of its efl'ects, 
a lasting influence on all the governments of the civilized 
world. 

He espoused the cause of his country, not merely be- 
cause it was popular, but because he said that its pros- 
perity, freedom, and honour, would be all diminished, if 
the usurpation of the British parliament was successful. 
His enemies constantly represented him as a demagogue, 
yet no man was less so. His character was too liberal, 
proud, and honest, to play that part. He led public opi- 
nion by the energy which conscious strength, elevated 
views, and quick feelings inspire, and was followed with 
that deference and reliance which great talents instinct- 
ively command. These were the qualifications that made 
him, for many years, the oracle and guide of the patriotic 
party. 

As in every case of public or private oppression, he 
was willing to volunteer in the cause of the suffering, 
s.nd in many instances, where he thought the occasion 



328 PRESCOTT. 

■would justify it, he employed his talents gratuitously ; 
his enemies were forced to acknowledge his liberality. 

He was a man of powerful genius, and ardent temper, 
with wit and humour that never failed : as an orator, he 
was bold, argumentative, impetuous, and commanding, 
with an eloquence that made his own excitement irre- 
sistibly contagious ; and as a lawyer, his knowledge and 
ability placed him at the head of his profession ; and as 
a scholar, he was rich in acquisition, and governed by a 
classic taste ; as a statesman and civilian, he was sound 
and just in his views; as a patriot, he resisted all allure- 
ments that might weaken the cause of that country, to 
which he devoted his life, and for which he sacrificed it. 
The future historian of the United States, in considering 
the foundation of American independence, will find that 
one of the corner stones must be inscribed with the name 
of James Otis. 



PRESCOTT, William, was an officer distinguished 
by the most determined bravery, and became conspicu- 
ous as an American officer, from the circumstance of his 
having commanded the American troops at the battle 
of Bunker's Hill, on the memorable 17th of June, 1775. 
He was born in 1726, at Goshen, in Massachusetts, and 
Was a lieutenant of the provincial troops at the capture 
of Cape Breton, in 1758. The British general was so 
much pleased with his conduct in that campaign, that 
he offered him a commission in the regular army, which 
he declined, to return home with his countrymen. From 
this time till the approach of the revolutionary war, he 
remained on his farm in Pepperel, filling various muni- 
cipal offices, and enjoying the esteem and affection of his 
fellow citizens. As the difficulties between the mother 
country and the colonies grew more serious, he took a 
deeper and more decided part in public affairs. 

In 1774, he was appointed to command a regiment of 
minute men, organized by the provincial congress. He 
marched his regiment to Lexington, immediately on 



PRESCOTT. 329 

yeceiving notice of the intended operations of general 
Gage against Concord; but the British detachment had 
retreated before he had time to meet it. He then pro- 
ceeded to Cambridge, and entered the army that was 
ordered to be raised; and the greater part of his officers 
and privates volunteered to serve with him for the first 
campaign. 

On the 16th June, three regiments were placed under 
him, and he was ordered to Charlestown in the evening, to 
take possession of Bunker's Hill, and throw up works for 
its defence. When they reached the ground, it was pei-- 
ceived that Breed's Hill, which is a few rods south of 
Bunker's Hill, was the most suitable station. The 
troops under the direction of colonel Gridley, an able 
engineer, were busily engaged in throwing up a small 
redoubt and breast-work, which latter was formed by 
placing two rail fences near together, and filling the in- 
terval with the new mown hay lying on the ground. 
There was something in the rustic materials of these 
defences, hastily made, in a short summer's night, with- 
in gunshot of a powerful enemy, that was particularly 
apposite to a body of armed husbandmen, who had rush- 
ed to the field at the first sound of alarm. 

As soon as these frail works were discovered the next 
morning, the British commander made preparations to 
get possession of them. General Howe, with various 
detachments, amounting to near five thousand men, was 
ordered to dislodge the " rebels." The force which colo- 
nel Prescott could command for the defence of the re^ 
doubt and breast-work, was about twelve hundred men. 
Very few of these had ever seen an action. They had 
been labouring all night in creating these defences ; and 
the redoubt, if it could be so called, was open on two 
sides. Instead of being relieved by fresh troops, as they 
had expected, they were left without supplies of ammu- 
nition or refreshment ; and thus fatigued and destitute, 
they had to bear the repeated assaults of a numerous, 
well appointed, veteran army. They destroyed nearly 
as many of their assailants, as the whole of their own 
number engaged ; and they did not retreat until their 
ammunition was exhausted, and the enemy, supplied with 
fresh troops and cannon, completely overpowered them. 
2 E 2 



330 PRESCOTT. 

Colonel Prescott lost nearly one quarter of his own 
regiment in the action. When General Warren came 
upon the hill, Colonel Prescott asked him if he had any 
orders to give: he answered, " No, colonel, 1 am only a 
volunteer; the command is yours." When he was at 
length forced to tell his men to retreat as well as they 
could, he was one of the last who left the intrenchment. 
He was so well satisfied with the bravery of his compa- 
nions, and convinced that the enemy were disheartened 
by the severe and unexpected loss which they had sus- 
tained, that he requested the commander in chief to give 
him two regiments, and he would retake the position the 
same night. 

He continued in the service until the beginning of 1777, 
when he resigned and returned to his home : but in the 
autumn of that year, he went as a volunteer to the north- 
ern army under general Gates, and assisted in the cap- 
ture of general Burgoyne. This was his last military 
service. He was subsequently,for several years, a member 
of the legislature, and died in 1795, in the seventieth 
year of his age. 

Colonel Prescott was a genuine specimen of an ener- 
getic, brave, and patriotic citizen, who was ready in the 
hour of danger, to place himself in the van, and partake 
in all the perils of his country ; feeling anxious for its 
prosperity, without caring to share in its emoluments; 
and maintaining beneath a plain exterior and simple ha- 
bits, a dignified pride in his native land, and a high- 
minded love of freedom. 

The immediate results of this engagement were great 
and various. Though the Americans were obliged to 
yield the ground for want of ammunition, yet their de- 
feat was substantially a triumph. The actual loss of the 
British army was severe, and was deeply felt by them- 
selves and their friends. The charm of their invincibi- 
lity was broken. The hopes of the whole continent were 
raised. It was demonstrated, that although they might 
burn towns, or overwhelm raw troops by superior dis- 
cipline and numbers, yet the conquest at least would not 
be an easy one. Those patriots, who, under the most 
arduous responsibility, at the peril of every thing which 
men of sense and virtue can value, hazarded in the 



PRESCOTT. 331 

support of public principles, present ruin and future dis- 
grace, though they felt this onset to be only the begin- 
ning of a civil war, yet were invigorated by its results, 
which cleared away some painful uncertainties ; while 
the bravery and firmness that had been displayed by their 
countrymen, inspired a more positive expectation of be- 
ing ultimately triumphant. 

In the life of James Otis, by William Tudor, of Bos- 
ton, from which work the foregoing is taken, the follow- 
ing note is made relative to the battle. " The anxiety 
and various emotions of the people of Boston, on this 
occasion, had a highly dramatic kind of interest. Those 
who sided with the British troops began to see even in 
the duration of this battle, the possibility that they had 
taken the wrong side, and that they might become exiles 
from their country. While those whose whole soul was 
with their countrymen, were in dreadful apprehension 
for their friends, in a contest, the severity of which was 
shown by the destruction of so many of their enemies. 

" After the battle had continued for some time, a 
young person living in Boston, possessed of very keen 
and generous feelings, bordering a little perhaps on the 
romantic, as was natural to her age, sex, and lively ima- 
gination, finding that many of the wounded troops 
brought over from the field of action were carried by her 
residence, mixed a quantity of refreshing beverage, and 
with a female domestic by her side, stood at the door, 
and offered it to the sufferers as they were borne along, 
burning with fever, and parched with thirst. Several of 
them, grateful for the kindness, gave her, as they thought, 
consolation, by assuring her of the destruction of her 
countrymen. One young officer said, ' never mind it, 
my young lady, we have peppered 'em well, depend upon 
it.' Her dearest feelings, deeply interested in the oppo- 
site camp, were thus unintentionally lacerated, while she 
was pouring oil and wine into their wounds." 

General Henry Lee, in his Memoirs of the War in the 
Southern Department, makes the following remark, in 
relation to Prescott and his gallant band : 

" When future generations shall inquire, where are the 
men who gained the brightest prize of glory in the ardu- 
ous contest which ushered in our nation's birth ? upon 



332 PUTNAM. 

Prescott and his companions in arms, will the eye of his- 
tory beam. The military annals of the world rarely fur- 
nish an achievement which equals the firmness and 
courage displayed on that proud day by the gallant band 
of Americans; and it certainly stands first in the bril- 
liant events of the war.** 



PUTNAM, Israel, a major-general in the army of 
the United States, was born at Salem, Massachusetts, 
January 7, 1718. His mind was vigorous, but it was 
never cultivated by education. When he for the first time 
went to Boston, he was insulted for his rusticity by a 
boy of twice his size. After bearing his sarcasms until 
his good nature was entirely exhausted, he attacked and 
vanquished the unmannerly fellow, to the great diversion 
of a crowd of spectators. In running, leaping, and 
wrestling, he almost always bore away the prize. In 
1739, he removed to Pomfret, in Connecticut, where he 
cultivated a considerable tract of land. He had, how- 
ever, to encounter many difficulties, and among his trou- 
bles, the depredations of wolves on his sheep-fold was 
not the least. In one night seventy fine sheep and goats 
were killed. A she wolf, who, with her annual whelps, 
had for several years infested the vicinity, being consi- 
dered as the principal cause of the havoc, Mr. Putnam 
entered into a combination with a number of his neigh- 
bours to hunt alternately, till they should destroy her. 
At length the hounds drove her into her den, and a num- 
ber of persons soon collected with guns, straw, fire, and 
sulphur, to attack the common enemy. But the dogs 
were afraid to approach her, and the fumes of brimstone 
could not force her from the cavern. It was now ten 
o*clock at night. Mr. Putnam proposed to his black 
servant to descend into the cave, and shoot the wolf; but, 
as the negro declined, he resolved to do it himself, Hav 
ing divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, and hav- 
ing a long rope fastened round his legs, by which he 
might be pulled back at a concerted signal, he entered 



PUTNAM. 333 

the cavern, head foremost, with a blazing torch, made 
of strips of birch bark, in his hand. He descended fifteen 
feet, passed along horizontally ten feet, and then began 
the gradual ascent, which is sixteen feet in length. He 
slowly proceeded on his hands and knees, in an abode 
which was silent as the house of death. Cautiously 
glancing forwards, he discovered the glaring eye-balls 
of the wolf, who started at the sight of his torch, gnash- 
ed her teeth, and gave a sullen growl. He immediately 
kicked the rope, and was drawn out with a friendly ce- 
lerity and violence, which not a little bruised him. Load- 
ing his gun with nine buck shot, and carrying it in one 
hand, while he held the torch with the other, he de- 
scended a second time. As he approached the wolf, she 
howled, rolled her eyes, snapped her teeth, dropped her 
head between her legs, and was evidently on the point 
of springing at him. At this moment he fired at her 
head, and soon found himself drawn out of the cave. 
Having refreshed himself, he again descended, and seiz- 
ing the wolf by her ears, kicked the rope, and his com- 
panions above, with no small exultation, dragged them 
both out together. 

During the French war he was appointed to command 
a company of the first troops which were raised in Con- 
necticut, in 1755. He rendered much service to the army 
in the neighbourhood of Crown Point. In 1756, while 
near Ticonderoga, he was repeatedly in the most immi- 
nent danger. He escaped in an adventure of one night 
with twelve bullet-holes in his blanket. In August he 
was sent out with several hundred men to watch the 
motions of the enemy. Being ambuscaded by a party of 
equal numbers, a general, but irregular action took 
place. Putnam had discharged his fusee several times, 
but at length it missed fire while its muzzle was present- 
ed to the breast of a savage. The warrior with his lifted 
hatchet, and a tremendous war-whoop, compelled him 
to surrender, and then bound him to a tree. In the course 
of the action the parties changed their position, so as to 
bring this tree directly between them. The balls fiew 
by him incessantly; many struck the tree, and some 
passed through his clothes. The enemy now gained pos- 
session of the ground, but being afterwards driven from 



334 PUTNAM. 

the field, they carried their prisoners with them. At 
night he was stripped, and a fire was kindled to roast 
him alive. For this purpose they led him into a dark 
forest, stripped him naked, bound him to a tree, and 
piled dry brush, with other fuel, at a small distance, in 
a circle round him. They accompanied their labours, 
as if for his funeral dirge, with screams and sounds, in- 
imitable but by savage voices. They then set the piles 
on fire. A sudden shower damped the rising flame. Still 
they strove to kindle it ; at last the blaze ran fiercely 
round the circle. Major Putnam soon began to feel the 
scorching heat. His hands were so tied that he could 
move his body. He often shifted sides as the fire ap- 
proached. This sight, at the very idea of which, all but 
savages must shudder, afforded the highest diversion to 
his inhuman tormentors, who demonstrated the delirium 
of their joy by correspondent yells, dances, and gesticu- 
lations. He saw clearly that his final hour was inevitably 
come. He summoned all his resolution, and composed 
his mind, so far as the circumstances could admit, to bid 
an eternal farewell to all he held most dear. To quit the 
world would scarcely have cost him a single pang ; but 
for the idea of home, but for the remembrance of domes- 
tic endearments, of the affectionate partner of his soul, 
and of their beloved offspring. His thought was ulti- 
mately fixed on a happier state of existence, beyond the 
tortures he was beginning to endure. The bitterness of 
death, even of that death which is accompanied with the 
keenest agonies, was, in a manner, past; nature, with a 
feeble struggle, was quitting its last hold on sublunary 
things, when a French officer rushed through the crowd, 
opened a way by scattering the burning brands, and un- 
bound the victim. It was Molang himself, to whom a 
savage, unwilling to see another human Victim immo- 
lated, had run and communicated the tidings. That 
commandant spurned and severely reprimanded the bar- 
barians, whose nocturnal powwas and hellish orgies he 
suddenly ended. Putnam did not want for feeling or 
gratitude. The French commander, fearing to trust him 
alone with them, remained till he could safely deliver 
him into the hands of his master. 

The savage approached his prisoner kindly, and seem- 



ftJtNAM. 335 

ed to treat him with particular affection. He offered him. 
some hard biscuit; but finding that he could not chew 
them on account of the blow he had received from the 
Frenchman, this more humane savage soaked some of 
the biscuit in water, and made him suck the pulp-like 
part. Determined, however, not to lose his captive, the 
refreshment being finished, he took the moccasins from 
his feet, and tied them to one of his wrists ; then direct- 
ing him to lie down on his back on the bare ground, he 
stretched one arm to its full length, and bound it fast to 
a young tree ; the other arm was extended and bound in 
the same manner : his legs were stretched apart, and 
fastened to two sapplings. Then a number of tall, but 
slender poles were cut down, which, with some long 
bushes, were laid across his body from head to foot: on 
each side lay as many Indians as could conveniently find 
lodging, in order to prevent the possibility of his escape. 
In this disagreeable and painful posture he remained till 
morning. During the night, the longest and most dreary 
conceivable, our hero used to relate that he felt a ray of 
cheerfulness come casually across his mind, and could 
not even refrain from smiling when he reflected on this 
ludicrous group for a painter, of which he himself was 
the principal figure. 

The next day he was allowed his blanket and mocca- 
sins, and permitted to march without carrying any pack, 
or receiving any insult. To allay his extreme hunger, 
a little bear's meat was given, which he sucked through 
his teeth. At night the party arrived at Ticonderoga, 
and the prisoner was placed under the care of a French 
guard. 

The savages, who had been prevented from glutting 
their diabolical thirst for blood, took this opportunity of 
manifesting their malevolence for the disappointment, 
by horrid grimaces and angry gestures ; but they were 
suffered no more to offer violence or personal indignity 
to him. 

After having been examined by the marquis de Mont- 
calm, major Putnam was conducted to Montreal by a 
French officer, who treated him with the greatest in- 
dulgence and humanity. 

At this place were several prisoners. Colonel Peter 



336 PUTNAM. 

Schuyler, remarkable for his philanthropy, generosity 
and friendship, was of the number. No sooner had he 
heard of major Putnam's arrival, than he went to the 
interpreter's quarters, and inquired whether he had a 
provincial major in his custody. He found major Put- 
nam in a comfortless condition, without coat, waistcoat, 
or hose; the remnant of his clothing miserably dirty and 
ragged, his beard long and squalid, his legs torn by 
thorns and briers, his face gashed with wounds, and 
swollen with bruises. Colonel Schuyler, irritated beyond 
all sufferance at such a sight, could scarcely restrain his 
speech within limits consistent with the prudence of a 
prisoner, and the meekness of a Christian. Major Put- 
nam was immediately treated according to his rank, 
clothed in a decent manner, and supplied with money 
by this liberal and sympathetic patron of the distressed ; 
and by his assistance he was soon after exchanged. 

When general Amherst was marching across the 
country to Canada, the army coming to one of the lakes, 
which they were obliged to pass, found the French had 
an armed vessel of twelve guns upon it. He was in great 
distress, his boats were no match for her, and she alone 
was capable of sinking his whole army in that situation. 
While he was pondering what should be done, Putnam 
comes to him, and says," General^ that ship must be taken.** 
"Ay," says Amherst, "I would give the world she 
was taken." "I'll take her," says Putnam. Amherst 
smiled, and asked how ? " Give me some wedges, a bee- 
tle, (a large wooden hammer, or maul, used for driving 
wedges,) and a few men of my own choice." Amherst 
could not conceive how an armed vessel was to be taken 
by four or five men, a beetle and wedges. However, he 
granted Putnam's request. When night came, Putnam, 
with his materials and men, went in a boat under the 
vessel's stern, and in an instant drove in the wedges be- 
tween the rudder and ship, and left her. In the morn- 
ing, the sails were seen fluttering about : she was adrift 
in the middle of the lake ; and being presently blown 
ashore, was easily taken. 

At the commencement of hostilities between the colo- 
nies and the mother country, colonel Putnam, on hear- 
ing of the battle at Lexington, left his plough in the 



PUTNAM. 337 

middle of the field, and without changing his clothes, 
repaired to Cambridge, riding in a single day one hun- 
dred miles. He was soon appointed a major-general in 
the provincial army, and returning to Connecticut, he 
made no delay in bringing on a body of troops. 

Among other examples of patriotism that might be 
related, the following is from a living witness. The day 
that the report of the battle of Lexington reached Barn- 
stable, a company of militia immediately assembled and 
marched oft* to Cambridge. In the front rank there was 
a young man, the son of a respectable farmer, and his 
only child. In marching from the village, as they passed 
his house, he came out to meet them. There was a mo- 
mentary halt. The drum and fife paused for an instant. 
The father, suppressing a stroTig and evident emotion, 
said, " God be with you all, my friends 1 and, John, if 
you, my son, are called into battle, take care that you 
behave like a man, or else let me never see your face 
again !" A tear started into every eye, and the march was 
resumed. 

Not long after his appointment, the commander of 
the British army, unwilling that so valuable an officer 
should act in opposition, privately conveyed to him a 
proposal, that if he would quit the rebel party, he might 
rely on being made a major-general in the British esta- 
blishment, and receiving a great pecuniary compensation 
for his services; but he spurned the offer. On the 16th 
of June, 1775, it was determined, in a council of war, at 
which general Putnam assisted, that a fortified post 
should be established at, or near Bunker's Hill. General 
Putnam marched with the first detachment, and com- 
menced the work; he was the principal agent or engi- 
neer who traced the lines of the redoubt, and he conti- 
nued most, if not all the night, with the workmen ; at 
any rate, he was on the spot before sun-rise in the morn- 
ing, and had taken his station on the top of Bunker's 
Hill, and participated in the danger, as well as the glory 
of that day. 

When the army was organized by general Washing- 
ton at Cambridge, general Putnam was appointed to 
command the reserve. In August, 1776, he was station- 
ed at Brooklyn, on Long Island. After the defeat of our 
2 V 



# 

338 PUTNAM. 

army, on the 27th of that month, he went to New York^ 
and was very serviceable in the city and neighbourhood. 
In October or November, he was sent to Philadelphia 
to fortify that city. In January, 1777, he was directed to 
take post at Princeton, where he continued until spring. 
At this place, a sick prisoner, a captain, requested that 
a friend in the British army at Brunswick, might be sent 
for, to assist him in making his will. Putnam was per- 
plexed. He had but fifty men under his command, and 
did not wish to have his weakness known; but yet he 
was unwilling to deny the request. He, however, sent 
a flag of truce, and directed the officer to be brought in 
the night. In the evening, lights were placed in all the 
college windows, and in every apartment of the vacant 
houses throughout the town. The officer, on his return, 
reported, that general Putnam's army could not consist 
of less than four or five thousand men. In the spring, he 
was appointed to the command of a separate army, in the 
highlands of New York. One Palmer, a lieutenant in 
the tory new levies, was detected in the camp : governor 
Tyron reclaimed him as a British officer, threatening 
vengeance if he was not restored. General Putnam 
wrote the following pithy reply: 

" Sir, 

" Nathan P?.lmer, a lieutenant in your king's service, 
was taken in my camp as a spy; he was tried as a spy; 
he was condemned as a spy; and he shall be hanged as 
a spy. 

"Israel Putnam." 

" P. S. Afternoon. He is hanged." 

After the loss of fort Montgomery, the commander 
in chief determined to build another fortification, and he 
directed general Putnam to fix on a spot. To him be- 
longs the praise of having chosen West Point. The 
campaign of 1779, which was principally spent in 
strengthening the works at this place, finished the mili- 
tary career of Putnam. A paralytic affection impaired 
tlie activity of his body, and he passed the remainder 
of his days in retirement, retaining his relish for enjoy- 
ment, his love of pleasantry, his strength of memory, 
and all the faculties of his mind. 



RAMSAV. 



He died at Brookline, Connecticut, May, 29, 1790, 
aged seventy-two years. 



RAMSAY, David, was born in Lancaster county, 
Pennsylvania, and graduated at Princeton college, New 
Jersey, in the seventeenth year of his age. He studied 
physic under Dr. Thomas Bond, of Philadelphia, and 
was the fifth who obtained the degree of M. D. from the 
Philadelphia Medical School, the only institution of the 
kind then in America. He commenced the practice of 
medicine in Cecil county, Maryland; but in a short time; 
removed to Charleston, South Carolina, where he con- 
tinued in practice until his death. During the revolu- 
tionary war, he espoused, with ardour and ability, the 
cause of his country ; and when Charleston fell into the 
hands of the enemy, he was, with many other distin- 
guished patriots, transported to St. Augustine, where he 
suffered a long and rigorous imprisonment, during which 
he employed himself in historical researches and writ- 
ings. In 1782-83-85 and '86, he represented South Ca- 
rolina in the congress of the United States ; and for the 
last six months of that period, filled the presidential 
chair, in the absence of John Hancock. He represented 
the city of Charleston in the state legislature, for twen- 
ty-one successive years, for the last seven of which he 
was president of the senate of that state. To good na- 
tural abilities, and a liberal education, he added close 
.application to public business and private studies ; and 
the opportunities which his legislative stations gave him, 
were diligently improved in the collection of official and 
authentic materials for the various historical works 
which he was engaged in. The principal of these were 
his Universal History Americanized; History of Ame- 
rica, in three volumes; History of the Revolution, in two 
volumes ; and History of South Carolina, in two volumes. 
Besides these, he published many orations and essays on 
medical and political subjects; and an Historic and Bio- 
graphic Chart of the United States, As an historian 



340 RANDOLPH. 

and physician, he deservedly ranks high ; and as a pa- 
triot and Christian, he was revered and esteemed. He 
was cut off in the midst of his honours and usefulness, 
by a man whose insanity he was called to bear testimony 
to as a physician in a court of justice ; and who, in re- 
venge, assassinated him in the street soon after. He lin- 
gered a few days, and died on the 6th of May, 1815. 



RANDOLPH, Peyton, first president of congress, de- 
scended from one of the most ancient and respectable 
families in Virginia, of which colony he was attorney- 
general, as early as 1748. In 1756, he formed a company 
of a hundred gentlemen, who engaged as volunteers 
against the Indians. He commanded a company in the 
regiment commanded by colonel Washington. In 1764, 
he was elected a member of the house of burgesses. In 
1766, having resigned the office of attorney-general, he 
was chosen speaker of the assembly, to the great satis- 
faction of all classes of his fellow-citizens. In 1769, a 
new assembly was convened by lord Botetourt, who had 
lately arrived as governor. This assembly proceeded to 
the immediate consideration of a new grievance which 
was about to fall on the colonies. This was the threat- 
ened transportation to England, for trial, of all persons 
who might be charged with treason in the province of 
Massachusetts; a measure which had passed Ijoth houses 
of parliament. The assembly of Virginia added a de- 
cided protest to the measure, and a copy of their reso- 
lutions was ordered to be sent to the colonial assemblies 
throughout the continent, with a request that they would 
concur therein. The assembly being suddenly dissolved 
by the governor, the members convened at a private 
house, where, having chosen Mr. Randolph as mode- 
rator, they entered into a non-importation agreement, the 
articles of which were signed by every one present ; 
among whom were Peyton Randolph, George Washing- 
ton, Thomas JeffersQn, Patrick Henry, R. C. Nicholas, 



RANDOLPH. 341 

and many others, second to those only in the remem- 
brance of their country. 

Intelligence of the act of parliament, shutting up the 
port of Boston, reached Williamsburg on the 26th of 
May. The house of burgesses, then in session, instantly 
resolved, that the first of June, the day on which the act 
was to go into operation, should be set apart as a day 
of fasting, humiliation, and prayer; that the divine inter- 
position might then be implored, either to avert the 
threatening evils of civil war, or to give to the people 
energy and union, to meet them with spirit and effect. 
In the midst of further animated debate, the assembly 
was abruptly dissolved by lord Dunmore. But the mem- 
bers, soon after, met as private citizens, and, their late 
speaker, Mr. Randolph, presiding, they unanimously 
signed an address to their countrymen; in which, after 
recommending to them to abstain from the purchase or 
use of East India commodities, they declare, that the 
late attack on the rights of a sister colony, menaced ruin 
to the rights of all, unless the united wisdom of the 
whole should be applied; and the committee of corre- 
spondence, of which Mr. Randolph was chairman, were 
therefore instructed to communicate with the other colo- 
nies on the expediency of calling a general congress of 
delegates, to meet annually, for the purpose of deliberat- 
ing on those general measures, which the united interests 
of America might from time to time require. It may 
be necessary to remark, that the meeting of the first 
congress at Philadelphia, in the September following, 
was a consequence of this recommendation. 

On the first day of August, the convention of deputies 
elected by the several counties of Virginia, assembled 
at Williamsburg, and Peyton Randolph was chosen their 
chairman. The first act of this body was a declaration 
of the necessity of a general congress, in order that rcr 
dress might be procured for the much injured province 
of Massachusetts, and that the other provinces might be 
secured from the ravage and ruin of arbitrary taxes. In 
pursuance of this declaration, on the fifth of the same 
month, they chose seven of their most distinguished 
members to represent the colony in general congress ; 
among these were Peyton Randolph, George Washing- 
2 r 2 



342 RANDOLPH. 

ton, Edmund Pendleton, Richard Henry Lee, and Patrick 
Henry. The convention, however, did not dissolve it- 
self, until it had entered into a solemn agreement, which 
it also recommended to the people, not to import Bri- 
tish merchandise or manufactures, nor to import, nor 
even use the article of tea ; and in case the American 
grievances were not redressed before the tenth of the 
next August, to cease the exportation of tobacco, or any 
other article whatever, to Great Britain. 

On the meeting of the first general congress at Phila- 
delphia, on the fifth day of September, 1774, Peyton Ran- 
dolph was called, by the united voice of the members, to 
preside over their deliberations. The character and pro- 
ceedings of that august and enlightened assembly are so 
well known to the world, that to dwell upon them here 
would be superfluous. It may be permitted, however, 
to mention a remarkable occurrence which took place 
on the opening of congress, regarding as it does, a per- 
sonage, respecting whom even trifles become interesting. 
It is related, on the authority of the venerable Charles 
Thompson, that, upon the house being summoned to 
prayers, and their chaplain having commenced the ser- 
vice, it was perceived, that of all the members present, 
George Washington was the only one who was upon his 
knees. A striking circumstance, certainly, and adding 
another trait to the character of a man, who seemed 
destined to be, in every situation, distinguished from his 
fellow mortals. 

The severe indisposition of Mr. Randolph obliged him 
to retire from the chair on the 22d October of this year, 
and he was succeeded by the honourable Henry Middle- 
ton as president of congress. But his country was not 
yet to be deprived of his valuable services ; on the 20th 
of March, 1775, he appeared as president of the conven- 
tion of deputies, convened at the town of Richmond, and 
was again elected a delegate to the general congress 
which was to be held at Philadelphia, on the 10th of the 
following May. But, before he left Virginia a second 
time, he had more than one occasion of displaying the 
uncommon moderation of his character. About the mid- 
dle of April, the conduct of lord Dunmore, in clandes- 
tinely removing on board a ship of war, the powder of 



RANI>OLPH. 343 

the city, together with his violent menaces against Wil- 
liamsburg, had necessarily excited the resentment of the 
people; they were even upon the point of entering his 
house in an armed body; and nothing, probably, but the 
timely interference of their venerated townsman, Ran- 
dolph, would have saved the governor from their vio- 
lence. A considerable number of the inhabitants of the 
upper country had also risen in arms. They assembled 
at Fredericksburg, and had just come to a decision to 
march towards Williamsburg, when Mr. Randolph ar- 
rived there on his way to Philadelphia. His advice, 
joined by that of his friend, Edmund Pendleton, had its 
usual influence, and the volunteer companies, generally, 
returned to their several homes. There was, however, 
a remarkable exception to this acquiescence : a small 
force, commanded by the warm and enthusiastic Patrick 
Henry, actually proceeded to within a few miles of Wil- 
liamsburg; where their leader, before he would disband 
his troops, obtained, from the king's receiver-general, a 
bill for the value of the powder in question. 

A few days after the meeting of congress, in Mayj 
1775, on the arrival in America of what was called lord 
North's conciliatory proposition, Mr. Randolph again 
quitted the chair of congress, and repaired to Williams- 
burg, where lord Dunmore had summoned the house of 
burgesses to assemble on the first of June, in order that 
he might lay before them the proposition of the British 
minister. Mr. Randolph resumed his situation as speaker 
of the house, and, when the answer to lord North was 
to be given, anxious that its tone and spirit should be 
such as to have an effect upon those of the other colonies 
that would follow, and meet the feelings of the body he 
had left, he requested the aid of a younger and more 
ardent pen ; and it is to the vigorous conception of Jef- 
ferson that we owe that bold and masterly production. 
The opposition to it was but feeble, and Mr. Randolph 
steadily supported, and carried it through the house, 
with a few softenings only, which it received, in its 
course, from the more timid members. 

After the adjournment of the house of burgesses, he 
returned to the congress, which was still sitting at Phi- 
ladelphia. It was generally expected that Mr. Hancock, 



344 RANDOLPH. 

who had succeeded him as president, would have re- 
signed the chair on his return. Mr. Randolph, how- 
ever, took his seat as a member, and entered readily into 
all the momentous proceedings of that body. But he 
was not destined to witness the independence of the 
country he had loved and served so faithfully. A stroke 
of apoplexy deprived him of life on the twenty-first of 
October, 1775, at the age of fifty-two years. He had ac- 
cepted an invitation to dine with other company near 
Philadelphia. He fell from his seat, and immediately 
expired. His corpse was taken to Virginia for interment. 

Peyton Randolph was, indeed, a most excellent man, 
and no one was ever more beloved and respected by his 
friends. In manner, he was, perhaps, somewhat cold and 
reserved towards strangers, but of the sweetest aifability 
when ripened into acquaintance ; of attic pleasantry in 
conversation, and always good humoured and concilia- 
tory. He was liberal in his expenses, but so strictly 
correct also, that he never found himself involved in 
pecuniary embarrassment. His heart was always open 
to the amiable sensibilities of our nature; and he per- 
formed as many good acts as could have been done with 
his fortune, without injuriously impairing his means of 
continuing them. 

As a lawyer, he was well read, and possessed a strong 
and logical mind. His opinions were highly regarded. 
They presented always a learned and sound view of the 
subject, but generally, too, betraying an unwillingness to 
go into its thorough development. For, being heavy and 
inert in body, he was rather too indolent and careless 
for business, which occasioned him to have a smaller 
portion of it than his abilities would have otherwise 
commanded. Indeed, after his appointment as attorney- 
general, he did not seem to court, nor scarcely to wel- 
come business. It ought, however, to be said of him to 
his honour, that in the discharge of that office he consi- 
dered himself equally charged with the rights of the 
colony as with those of the crown : and that, in crimi- 
nal prosecutions, exaggerating nothing, he aimed only 
to arrive at a candid and just state of the transaction, 
believing it more a duty to save an innocent, than to 
convict a guilty man. 



tlEKD. 345 

As a politician, he was firm in his principles, and 
steady in his opposition to foreign usurpation; but, with 
the other older members of the assembly, generally 
yielding the lead to the younger ; contenting himself 
w ith tempering their extreme ardour, and so far mode- 
rating their pace, as to prevent their going too much in 
advance of public sentiment. He presided in the house 
of burgesses, and subsequently in the general congress, 
with uncommon dignity; and, although not eloquent, 
yet when he spoke, his matter was so substantial, that 
no man commanded more attention. This, joined with 
the universal knowledge of his worth, gave him a weight 
in the assembly of Virginia, which few ever attained. 

He left no issue, and his fortune was bequeathed to his 
widow, and his nephew, the late Edmund Randolph. 



REED, Joseph, president of the state of Pennsylvania, 
was born in the state of New Jersey, the 27th of August, 
A. D. 1741. In the year 1757, at the early age of sixteen, 
he graduated with considerable honour, at Princeton 
college. Having studied the law with Richard Stock- 
ton, Esq., an eminent counsellor of that place, he visited 
England, and pursued his studies in the temple, until the 
disturbances which first broke out in the colonies on the 
passage of the stamp act. On his return to his native 
country, he commenced the practice of the law, and bore 
a distinguished part in the political commotions of the 
day. Having married the daughter of Dennis de Berdt, 
an eminent merchant of London, and, before the Ameri- 
can revolution, agent for the province of Massachusetts, 
he soon after returned to America, and practised the law 
with eminent success in the city of Philadelphia. Find- 
ing that reconciliation with the mother country was not 
to be accomplished without the sacrifice of honour as 
well as liberty, he became one of the most zealous advo- 
cates of independence. In 1774, he was appointed one 
of the committee of correspondence of Philadelphia, and 
afterwards president of the convention, and, subsequent- 



346 R££D. 

ly, member of the continental congress. On the forma 
tion of the army, he resigned a lucrative practice, which 
he was enjoying at Philadelphia, and repaired to the 
camp at Cambridge, where he was appointed aid-de- 
camp and secretary to general Washington ; and although 
merely acting as a volunteer, he displayed in this cam- 
paign, on many occasions, the greatest courage and mi- 
litary ability. At the opening of the campaign in 1776, 
on the promotion of general Gates, he was advanced, at 
the special recommendation of general Washington, to 
the post of adjutant-general, and bore an active part in 
this campaign ; his local knowledge of the country being 
eminently useful in the affair at Trenton, and at the bat- 
tle of Princeton : in the course of these events, and the 
constant follower of his fortunes, he enjoyed the confi- 
dence and esteem of the commander in chief. At the 
end of the year he resigned the office of adjutant-general, 
and was immediately appointed a general officer, with a 
view to the command of cavalry; but owing to the diffi- 
culty of raising troops, and the very detached parties in 
which they were employed, he was prevented from acting 
in that station. He still attended the army, and from the 
entrance of the British army into Pennsylvania, till the 
close of the campaign in 1777, he was seldom absent. 
He was engaged at the battle of German town, and at 
White Marsh assisted general Potter in drawing up the 
militia. In 1778, he was appointed a member of con- 
gress, and signed the articles of confederation. About 
this time the British commissioners, governor John- 
stone, lord Carlisle, and Mr. Eden, invested with power 
to treat of peace, arrived in America, and governor 
Johnstone, the principal of them, addressed private let- 
ters to Henry Laurens, Joseph Reed, Francis Dana, and 
Robert Morris, offering them many advantages in case 
they would lend themselves to his views. Private in- 
formation was communicated from governor Johnstone 
to general Reed, that in case he would exert his abilities 
to promote a reconciliation, ten thousand pounds ster- 
ling, and the most valuable office in the colonies, were 
at his disposal ; to which Mr. Reed made this memora- 
ble reply: "Ma/ ht was not worth purchasing; but thaty 
$uch as he was^ the king of Great Britain was not rich enough 



REED. 347 

io do ii." These transactions caused a resolution in 
congress, by which they refused to hold any further com- 
munication with that commissioner. Governor John- 
stone, on his return to England, denied, in parliament, 
ever having made such offers ; in consequence of which, 
general Reed published a pamphlet, in which the whole 
transaction was clearly and satisfactorily proved, and 
which was extensively circulated, both in England and 
America. 

In 1778, he was unanimously elected president of the 
supreme executive council of the state of Pennsylvania, 
to which o)Tice he was elected annually, with equal unani- 
mity, for the constitutional period of three years. About 
this time there existed violent parties in the state, and 
several serious commotions occurred, particularly a large 
armed insurrection in the city of Philadelphia, which 
he suppressed, and rescued a number of distinguished 
citizens from the most imminent danger of their lives, 
at the risk of his own, for which he received a vote of 
thanks from the legislature of the state. 

At the time of the defection of the Pennsylvania line, 
governor Reed exerted himself strenuously to bring back 
the revolters, in which he ultimately succeeded. Amidst 
the most difficult and trying scenes, his administration 
exhibited the most disinterested zeal and firmness of de- 
cision. In the civil part of his character, his knowledge 
of the law was very useful in a new and unsettled go- 
vernment ; so that, although he found in it no small 
weakness and confusion, he left it at the expiration of 
his term of office, in as much tranquillity and energy as 
could be expected from the time and circumstances of 
the war. In the year 1781, on the expiration of his term 
of office, he returned to the duties of his profession. 

General Reed was very fortunate in his military career, 
for, although he was in almost every engagement in the 
northern and eastern section of the union, during the 
war, he never was wounded ; he had three horses killed 
under him, one at the battle of Brandywine, one in the 
skirmish at White Marsh, and one at the battle of Mon- 
mouth. During the whole of the war he enjoyed the 
confidence and friendship of generals Washington, 
Greene, Wayne, Steuben, Lafayette, and many other* 



348 REED. 

of the most distinguished characters of the revolution, 
with whom he was in habits of the most confidential in- 
tercourse and correspondence. The friendship that ex- 
isted between general Reed and general Greene, is 
particularly mentioned by the biographer of general 
Greene. " Among the many inestimable friends who 
attached themselves to him, during his military career, 
there was no one whom general Greene prized more, or 
more justly, than the late governor Reed, of Pennsylva- 
via. It was before this gentleman had immortalized him- 
self by his celebrated reply to the agent of corruption, 
that these two distinguished patriots had begun to feel 
for each other, the sympathies of congenial souls. Mr. 
Reed had accompanied general Washington to Boston, 
when he first took the command of the American army; 
where he became acquainted with Greene, and, as was 
almost invariably the case with those who became ac- 
quainted with him, and had hearts to acknowledge his 
worth, a friendship ensued which lasted with their lives.'* 
Had the life of general Reed been sufficiently prolonged, 
he would have discharged, in a manner worthy of the 
subject, the debt of national gratitude, to which the ef- 
forts of the biographer of general Greene have been 
successfully dedicated, who had in his possession the 
outlines of a sketch of the life of general Greene, by this 
friend. 

In the year 1784, he again visited England for the sake 
of his health, but his voyage was attended with but little 
effect, as in the following year he fell a victim to a dis- 
ease, most probably brought on by the fatigue and ex- 
posure to which he was constantly subjected. In private 
life, he was accomplished in his manners, pure in his 
morals, fervent and faithful in his attachments. 

On the 5th of March, 1785, in the forty-third year of 
his age, too soon for his country and his friends, he de- 
parted a life, active, useful, and glorious. His remains 
were interred in the presbyterian ground, in Arch street^ 
in the city of Philadelphia, attended by the president and 
executive council, and the speaker, and the general as- 
sembly of the state. 



SCAMMEL. 349 

SCAMMEL, Alexander, was b3rn in Mendon, Mas- 
sachusetts. He graduated at Harvard college, in 1769, 
and was employed for some time as a teacher of a school, 
and a surveyor of lands. In 1775, he was appointed bri- 
gade-major, and in 1776, colonel of the third battalion of 
continental troops raised in New Hampshire. In 1771, 
colonel Scammel commanded the third regiment of that 
state, and was wounded in the desperate battle of Sara- 
toga. In 1780, the levy of New Hampshire was reduced 
to two regiments, when he commanded the first. He 
was afterwards appointed adjutant-general of the Ame- 
rican armies, in which office he was deservedly popular, 
and secured the esteem of the officers of the army gene- 
rally. With this situation he became dissatisfied, be- 
cause it often excused him from those dangers to which 
others were exposed ; and preferring a more active com- 
mand, he was put at the head of a regiment of light 
infantry. On the 30th of September, 1781, at the memo- 
rable and successful siege of Yorktovvn, he was officer 
of the day; and while reconnoitering the situation of the 
enemy, was surprised by a party of their horse ; and af- 
ter being taken prisoner, was inhumanly wounded by 
them. He was conveyed to the city of Williamsburg, 
Virginia, where he died October 6, 1781. 

He was an officer of uncommon merit, and of the most 
amiable manners, and was sincerely regretted by all who 
had the pleasure of his acquaintance, and particularly by 
the officers of the American army. The following lines 
were written the day after the capitulation of lord Corn- 
wallis, at Yorktown, and placed on the tomb-stone of 
colonel Scammel : 

" What, tho' no angel glanc'd aside the ball, 
Nor allied arms pour'd vengeance for his fall; 
Brave Scammel's fame to distant regions known. 
Shall last beyond this monumental stone. 
Which conq'ring armies (from their toils return'd,) 
Rear'd to his glory, while his fate they mourn'd." 



2 G 



350 sCHAlcii. 

SCHAICK, GosEN* Van, a brigadier-general in the 
United States army, was the son of Sy brant G. Van 
Schaick, Esq. formerly mayor of the city of Albany, and 
was born in the year 1737. In the year 1756, at the early 
age of nineteen, he entered the British army as a lieute- 
nant, under the patronage of lord Loudon, his father's 
friend. He served through the remainder of the French 
war, and rose to the rank of lieutenant-colonel, in 1760. 
When the revolutionary war commenced, he took sides 
with his native country. A muster of the militia having 
been made on the east side of the Hudson river, oppo- 
site the city of Albany, not a person was found among 
them capable of taking command. At this emergency, 
colonel Van Schaick was requested to go over and take 
charge of the drill; and he particularly distinguished 
himself on that occasion, by introducing confidence and 
regularity among them. He afterwards commanded the 
first New York regiment in the line. He was at the bat- 
tle of Monmouth court-house, and in 1779, headed an 
expedition against the Onondago Indian settlements. 
With the assistance of colonel Willet and major Cochran, 
the objects were completely effected, and success reward- 
ed their efforts. The enemy were defeated, and the 
troops returned to fort Schuyler, the place of rendezvous, 
in five days and a half after they had left it, performing 
the arduous service required of them, and a march 
through the wilderness of one himdred and eighty miles. 
For this handsome display of talents as a partisan offi- 
cer, colonel Van Schaick, and the officers and soldiers 
under his command, received the thanks of congress. 

The cruelties exercised on the Wyoming, and other 
settlements attacked by the Indians in the course of the 
preceding campaign, had given a great degree of im- 
portance to this expedition, and a deep interest was felt 
in its success. 

Shortly before his death, in 1784, he received a bri- 
gadier-general's commission in the regular line. His 
own fortune was not a little impaired by the heavy de- 
mands made upon it, by the necessities of his men, at a 
time when the supplies were scanty and irregular. In 
short, he was ever a good citizen, a true patriot, and a 
f. rave soldier. 



3CH\JVLK5l. 351 

SCHUYLER, Philip, a major-general in the revolu- 
tionary war, received this appointment from congress, 
June 19, 1776. He was directed to proceed immediately 
from New York to Ticonderoga, to secure the lakes, and 
to make preparations for entering Canada. Being taken 
sick in September, the command devolved upon general 
Montgomery. On his recovery he devoted himself zeal- 
ously to the management of the affairs in the northern 
department. The superintendence of the Indian con- 
cerns claimed much of his ^tte^ition. On the approach 
of Burgoyne in 1777, he made every exertion to obstruct 
his progress; but the evacuation of Ticonderoga by St. 
Clair, occasioning unreasonable jealousies in regard to 
Schuyler in New England, he was superseded by gene- 
ral Gates in August, and congress dii^cted an inquiry 
to be made into his conduct. It was a matter of extreme 
chagrin to him, to be recalled at the moment when he 
was about to ta;ke ground and to face the enemy. The 
patriotism and magnanimity displayed by general Schuy- 
ler, on this occasion, does him high honour. All that 
could have been effected to impede the progi-ess of the 
British army, had been done already. Bridges were 
broken up ; causeways d€stroyed ; trees felled in every 
<lirection t© retard the conveyance of stores and artillery. 
Patrols were employed to give speedy intelligence of 
every movement of the enemy, and detached corps of 
light troops to harass and keep up perpetual alarm. 

On Gates's arrival, general Schuyler, without the 
slightest indication of ill-humour, resigned his com- 
mand, communicated all the intelligence he possessed, 
and put every interesting paper into his hands, simply 
adding, " I have done all that could be done as far as the 
means were in my power, to injure the enemy, and to 
inspire confidence in the soldiers of our army, and I flat- 
ter myself with some success; but the palm of victory 
is denied me, and it is left to you, general, to reap the 
fruits of my labours. I will not fail, however, to second 
your views; and my devotion to my country, will cause 
me with alacrity to obey all your orders." He perform- 
ed his promise, and faithfully did his duty, till the sur- 
render of Burgoyne put an end to the contest. 

Another anecdote is recorded to his honour. General 



352 SERGEANT. 

Burgoyne, dining with general Gates immediately after 
the convention of Saratoga, and general Schuyler named 
among the officers presented to him, thought it neces- 
sary to apologize for the destruction of his elegant man- 
sion a few days before, by his orders. " Make no excuses, 
general," was the reply: '* I feel myself more than com- 
pensated by the pleasure of meeting you at this table." 






SERGEANT, Jonathan Dickenson, a zealous pa- 
triot, and eminent lawyer, was born at Princeton, in New 
Jersey, in the year 1746. His father was Jonathan Ser- 
geant, a highly respectable citizen of New Jersey, and 
his mother was the daughter of the Rev. Jonathan Dick- 
enson, the first president of Princeton college, whose 
learned and pious writings are extensively known; and 
have obtained for his memory the high respect due to 
so enlightened and faithful a servant in the cause of re- 
ligion and letters. The subject of this article studied 
the law with Richard Stockton, Esq., the elder. He be- 
gan the practice early, and with decided success. When 
the resistance commenced to the oppression of Great 
Britain, he took at once an active and distinguished 
part in favour of the rights of his countrymen, and 
throughout the whole of the arduous struggle which 
ensued, was a steadfast and resolute whig, in the darkest 
periods, preserving a cheerful confidence, and exerting 
himself with unabated vigour. 

In February, 1776, he was returned a delegate from 
New Jersey to congress, when he became a faithful and 
industrious member of that illustrious body. He conti- 
nued in this station throughout the perilous period of 
1776, and part of 1777. In the month of July of the lat- 
ter year, he was called by the state of Pennsylvania to 
the office of attorney-general of that state, which he ac- 
cepted, with a full sense of the laborious and critical 
nature of the service he was thus required to render, 
but feeling, too, that the cause of the revolution might 
in some measure be considered as turning upon a vigor- 



SERGEANT. o53 

Kjus exertion of judicial authority in Pennsylvania, for it 
was then a very prevalent opinion that her laws against 
treason could not be enforced. On the departure of the 
British from Philadelphia, he removed to that city with 
his family, and there resided until his death. In the dis- 
tressing period that passed during the occupation of 
Philadelphia by the British, he bore a leading and pro- 
minent part in the administration of the affairs of the 
state, and then became intimately acquainted with the 
leading whigs of Pennsylvania, with whom he delighted, 
during the remainder of his life, to maintain the rela- 
tions of political and personal friendship, and in concert 
with them, to devise the measures necessary for strength- 
ening the foundations of liberty which had been laid in 
the revolution. 

In 1778, congress, having directed a court martial for 
the trial of general St. Clair and other officers, in rela- 
tion to the evacuation of Ticonderoga, and ordered two 
counsellors learned in the law, to be appointed to assist 
the judge-advocate in conducting the trial, selected Mr. 
Sergeant and Mr. Patterson, attorney-general of New 
Jersey, to perform that duty. 

In the celebrated controversy between the states of 
Pennsylvania and Connecticut, concerning the Wyoming 
lands, which was heard and determined in 1782, before 
a court of commissioners, held under the confederation, 
Mr. Sergeant was one of the counsel for the state of 
Pennsylvania. 

In 1780, the storm of war having passed away, he re- 
signed the office of attorney-general, and devoted him- 
self to his profession, in which his business was large 
and lucrative. Declining, after the peace, like many of 
the patriots of 1776, to accept of any office, his acquain- 
tance was courted, and his advice and aid were constant! v 
sought by the republicans who took part in the import- 
ant transactions of those days. 

He continued to enjoy good health in the midst of his 
friends, and a numerous family, till the pestilence of the 
yellow fever of 1793, visited the city of Philadelphia. 
Terror, and alarm, and flight, were the effects of the ap- 
pearance of this appalling visiter, whose strides were too 
gigantic and marked, not to be perceived. The poor 
2 G 2 



354 SHERMAN. 

were left destitute, and the children of the poor who fell 
victims to the disease, were orphans indeed. Mr. Ser- 
geant, with a few others, obeying the impulse of humani- 
ty, and facing the danger which every where surrounded 
them, took upon themselves the office of a committee 
of health, and remained to assist the sick, relieve the dis- 
tressed, and provide the helpless orphans with clothing, 
and food, and shelter, from funds charitably contributed 
by themselves and their fellow-citizens. In the perform- 
ance of this interesting and hazardous duty, he fell a vic- 
tim to the fever in the month of October, 1793. He died 
at the age of forty-seven. 

As a lawyer, he was distinguished for integrity, learn- 
ing, and industry; for great promptness, and an uncom- 
monly fine natural elocution. As a man, he was kind, 
generous, and actively benevolent ; free from selfishness 
and timidity, and at the same time prudent and just; 
maintaining in his house a liberal hospitality, without 
ostentation or display. As a citizen and a public man, 
he was ardent, sincere, and indefatigable; fearless of 
every consequence of the honest discharge of his duty. 
He died in the midst of his usefulness, but he fell in the 
cause of humanity; and the blessings and tears of the 
orphans whom he had helped to rescue, accompanied his 
departing spirit. 






SHERMAN, Roger, one of the signers of the decla- 
ration of independence, was born in Newtown, Massa- 
chusetts, on the 19th of April, 1721. He received no 
other education than the ordinary country schools in 
Massachusetts at that period afforded. He was appren- 
ticed to a shoemaker, and pursued that occupation for 
some time after he was twenty-two years of age. It is 
recorded of Mr. Sherman, that he was accustomed to 
sit at his work with a book before him, devoting to study 
every moment that his eyes could be spared from the 
occupation in which he was engaged. In 1743, Mr. 
Sherman travelled, with his tools, on foot, to New Mil- 



SHERMAN-. 355 

ford, Connecticut, where he continued to work at his 
trade for some time. 

Several years after this, he applied himself to the study 
of law, and was admitted to the bar in 1754. The next 
year, he was appointed a justice of the peace, and soon 
after, a representative in the general assembly. In 1761, 
he removed to New Haven. From this time his reputa- 
tion was rapidly rising*, and he soon ranked among the 
first men in the state. 

His knowledge of the human character, his sagacious 
and penetrating mind, his general political views, and 
his accurate and just observation of passing events, ena- 
bled him on the first appearance of serious difficulties 
between the colonies and the parent country, to perceive 
the consequences that would follow ; and the probable 
result of a contest arising from a resistance to the exer- 
cise of unjust, oppressive, and unconstitutional acts of 
authority, over a free people, having sufficient intelli- 
gence to know their rights, and sufficient spirit to defend 
them. Accordingly, at the commencement of the con- 
test, he took an active and decided part in favour of the 
colonies, and subsequently in support of the revolution 
and their separation from Great Britain. In 1774, he 
was chosen a member of the first continental congress, 
and continued to be a member, except when excluded 
by the law of rotation. He was a member of the illus- 
trious congress of 1776, and was one of the committee 
that drew up the declaration of independence, which 
was penned by the venerable Thomas Jefferson, who was 
also one of the committee. After the peace, Roger Sher- 
man was a member of the convention which formed the 
constitution of the United States ; and he was chosen a 
representative from this state to the first congress under 
this constitution. He was removed to the senate in 179 1, 
and remained in this situation until his death, July 23, 
1793, in the seventy-third year of his age. The life of 
Mr. Sherman is one among the many examples of the 
triumph of industry over all the obstacles arising from 
the want of what is generally considered as a regular 
and systematic education. Yet it deserves consideration, 
whether a vigorous mind, stimulated by an ardent thirst 
of knowledge, left to its own exertions, unrestrained and 



356 STARR. 

unembarrassed by rules of art, and unshackled by sys- 
tematic regulations, is not capable of pursuing the ob- 
ject of acquiring knowledge more intensely, and with 
more success ; of taking a more wide and comprehensive 
survey ; of exploring with more penetration the fields of 
science, and of forming more just and solid views. Mr. 
Sherman possessed a powerful mind, and habits of in- 
dustry, which no difficulties could discourage, and no 
toil impair. In early life, he began to apply himself with 
inextinguishable zeal to the acquisition of knowledge. 
In this pursuit, although he was always actively engaged 
in business, he spent more hours than most of those 
who are professedly students. In his progress, he be- 
came extensively acquainted with mathematical science, 
natural philosophy, moral and metaphysical philosophy, 
history, logic, and theology. As a lawyer and states- 
man, he was very eminent, having a clear, penetrating, 
and vigorous mind; and as a patriot, no greater respect 
can be paid to his memory, than the fact which has al- 
ready been noticed, that he was a member of the patri- 
otic congress of 1776, which declared these colonies to 
be free and independent. 



STARK, John, was born in Londonderry, New Hamp- 
shire, 28th of August, (old style,) 1728. John removed 
with his father to Derryfield, (now Manchester,) about 
the year 1736, and settled a mile north of Amoskeig 
Falls, where he was employed occasionally in hunting 
and husbandry, until the 28th day of April, 1752, when 
he and three others, while hunting beaver on Baker's 
river, were surprised by ten St. Francois Indians. He had 
separated from his companions, in order to collect the 
traps. In the act of taking the last trap, he was seized 
by the Indians, who interrogated him about his compa- 
nions ; but he pointed out a contrary route. He led them 
nearly two miles from the right place, and was proceed- 
ing, when they heard guns fired, which his comrades 
had commenced, on presumption that he had lost his 



STARK. 357 

Way. The Indians then changed their course, got ahead 
of the boat, and lay in ambush. His comrades having 
fallen into the ambush, the Indians directed Stark to call 
for them; he did so, but advised them to escape to the 
opposite shore, on which four of the Indians fired. In 
this situation he had the temerity to snatch away two 
of their guns, and on the others preparing to fire, he did 
the same. One of his comrades, however, was killed. 
The savages beat Stark raiost severely. He and one of 
his comrades remained prisoners with' the Indians six 
weeks, when two gentlemen were sent by Massachusetts 
to redeem prisoners, and they were accordingly redeem- 
ed, and returned by way of Albany, and arrived at Der- 
ryfield in August following. Stark paid one hundred 
and three dollars, and his comrade sixty, for their free- 
dom. In the following winter the general court of New 
Hampshire concluded to send a party to explore the 
Coos country. A company was enlisted to perform this 
duty. On their arrival at Concord, they applied to Mr. 
Stark to act as their pilot, who agreed to accompany 
them. They returned on the thirteenth day to Concord. 
In the year 1754, it was understood that the French were 
making a fort at the upper Coos. Captain Powers was 
sent by the governor of New Hampshire, with thirty 
men, bearing a flag of truce, to demand the reason of 
making a fort there. On his arrival at Concord, he had 
no pilot, and applied to Mr. Stark; who, ever ready to 
embark in the naost hazardous enterprises, readily ac- 
companied them. He conducted the party to the upper 
Coos, and on the same route that the Indians had led 
him captive two years before. They found no garrison, 
and the scout returned after exploring for the first time, 
(by any English adventurer,) the Coos intervals, the now 
healthful and flourishing towns of Haverhill and New- 
burg. 

On the commencement of the seven years war, in 1755, 
Stark had acquired so much celebrity by these several 
expeditions, that the governor appointed him a lieute- 
nant in captain Rogers's company, in colonel Blanchard's 
regiment. Rogers possessing the same bold and enter- 
prising spirit, the rugged sons of the forest soon ranged 
themselves under their banners, and were ordered to 



358 STAttK. 

proceed to Coos, and burn the intervals, preparatory to 
building a fort, and forming an establishment there: but 
before they reached Coos, a new order commanded them 
to join the regiment at fort Edward, by way of Charles- 
town, No. 4, and Housack, and arrived about the time 
that sir William Johnson was attacked by the French 
and Indians near Bloody Pond, between fort Edward 
and Lake George. This campaign passed over without 
any occurrence worthy of remark. In the autumn, the 
regiment was discharged, and lieutenant Stark returned 
home. 

In the winter of 1756, a project was formed by the 
British commander at fort Edward, to establish a corps 
of rangers, to counteract the French scouts of Canadians 
and Indians that constantly harassed the frontiers, and 
hung on the wings of the army. Rogers was appointed 
captain, and he immediately repaired to New Hampshire 
to engage Stark to be his lieutenant, and raise the sol- 
diers. They soon completed their quota, and in April 
following, began their march for fort Edward. This 
campaign nothing of importance was done, except that 
this company was almost constantly on foot, watching 
the motions of the enemy at Tie and Crown Point, and 
preparing themselves for more important services. In 
the autumn of this year, the corps was joined by two 
companies, commanded by Hobs and Spickman, from 
Halifax. At this time the three companies contained 
nearly three hundred men, and began to be esteemed of 
considerable consequence. In January, 1757, a plan was 
formed for this corps to march to the lake, and intercept 
the supplies from Crown Point to Ticonderoga. They 
turned Tie, seized a few sleighs, and were returning to 
fort George, when the party was attacked about three 
miles from Tie, by the combined force of French and 
Indians from the garrison, when a most bloody and des' 
perate action ensued. Perhaps, according to numbers 
engaged, a more sanguinary battle was not fought during 
the war. In this instance, great prudence and coolness, 
joined with the most obstinate bravery, marked the con- 
duct of the young officer. Captain Spickman being killed, 
and Rogers wounded, the command of the retreat de- 
volved on lieutenant Stark, who, by his industry and 



stark:* 359 

firmness, in the face of the garrison, secured the wound- 
ed, and drew off the detachment with such order and 
address, as to keep the enemy at bay. At eight in the 
morning, they arrived at lake George. The wounded, 
who, during the night march, had kept up their spirits, 
now stiff with cold, fatigue, and loss of blood, could 
march no farther. It became necessary to send notice 
to fort George, that sleighs might be sent for them ; he 
undertook the task, and by fatigue more easily imagined 
than described, arrived at the fort about eight o'clock 
in the evening; and the day following his companions 
returned in sleighs. In the new organization of the 
corps, lieutenant Stark was appointed to supply the va- 
cancy caused by the death of captain Spickman. 

The garrison had been c^uiet for some time, when on 
the evening of the sixteenth of March he made his 
rounds, and heard the rangers planning a celebration of 
the Irish St. Patrick's. By one of those eccentricities 
for which he was always remarkable, he commanded the 
suttler to deliver no rum to the rangers without a writ- 
ten order. He then pretended to be unwell, and lame in 
his right hand, and could make no order. By this cir- 
cumstance the rangers were kept sober ; but the Irish 
regiment did not forget their ancient practice, and the 
day following, took large libations in honour of Shelah, 
that saint's good lady. The French ut Tie, knowing 
the laudable custom of the Hibernians on that festival, 
had planned an attack on the garrison that night, and 
would probably have carried the fort without much difH- 
culty, if these sober sentinels and troops had not repulsed 
them, while the others Mere coming to their senses. 
The fate of the attack belongs to history. The British 
commander in chief, sensible of the services of Stark, 
held him in high estimation ever after. From this time 
to the autumn following, no military movement of any 
consequence took place, when lord Loudon* the then 
commander, ordered the rangers to march to New York, 
to be employed on the Halifax station. When the order 
came, captain Stark was on a scout, and did not join 
them till their arrival at New York, at which place he 
was seized with the small-pox of the most malignant 
kind, and of course did not embark. Indeed, he hardly 



360 STARK. 

recovered his strength during the season ; but as he was 
on the eve of sailing for Halifax, the rangers returned, 
and he again joined them at Albany in the month of 
October, and passed the following winter at fort Edward. 

In the year 1758, general Abercrombie, commanding 
the British forces, resolved to attempt the reduction of 
Ticonderoga. The rangers, as usual, were ordered to 
scour the country, and open the way for the British 
troops to march up to the attack. The evening before 
this fatal battle, he had a long conversation with lord 
Howe, resting on a large bear skin, (his lordship*s camp 
bed,) relative to the mode of attack, and the position of 
the fort. Similarity of character had created a strong 
friendship between them ; they supped together, and the 
last orders were given to the rangers to carry the bridge 
between lake George and the plains of Tie, at an early 
hour in the morning. According to orders, they ad- 
vanced, and on approaching the bridge, major Rogers 
was at their head, and saw the Canadians and Indians 
prepared to dispute the passage with them: he halted a 
few minutes, which naturally pushed the rear on the 
front: not knowing the cause. Stark rushed forward to 
Rogers, and told him it was no time to delay, but to run 
boldly on to the bridge, and the danger would soon be 
over; the advice was pursued, and in a few minutes the 
enemy fled, and left the course clear for the army to 
pass. The result of the action is well known. His re- 
grets for the fate of the brave lord Howe lasted with his 
life, with only the exception of the revolutionary war, 
when he often remarked that he became more reconciled 
to his fate, lest he might have been employed against the 
United States. 

This disaster closed the campaign. In the winter he 
was permitted to return home on furlough, when he 
married Elizabeth Page. In the spring following, he 
joined the army under general Amherst, and was pre- 
sent at the reduction of Tie and Crown Point. 

By the conquest of Canada in 1759 and *60, little more 
active military services were expected in America. This 
circumstance, added to the death of lord Howe, and the 
jealousies of the British officers, induced him to quit the 
service. General Amherst, however, by an official letter, 



STARK. 



r,6\ 



assured him of his protection, and that if he should be 
Inclined to re-enter the service, he should not lose his 
rank by retiring. 

From this period until the year 1774, nothing of mo- 
ment in public or private life, roused him to action. In 
all instances of disputes between the king's governors 
and the people, he was uniformly attached to the inte- 
rests of the latter, and became a kind of rallying point 
for the people in his vicinity to exchange ideas and dis- 
cuss public measures. About this period he was appoint- 
ed one of the committee of safety, and performed that 
critical and delicate duty with great firmness and mo- 
deration; using all his endeavours to inspire union of 
sentiment, and to be prepared for action in case it be- 
came necessary. 

On the news of the battle of Lexington, he immediately 
mounted his horse, and proceeded to the theatre of ac- 
tion, encouraging the volunteers from New Hampshire 
to rendezvous at Medford, as the most contiguous and 
proper place to assemble. His military services, and his 
uniform integrity and patriotism, left him no rival in the 
minds of his neighbours who had appeared in arms: and 
he was hailed their colonel and commander, by a unani- 
mous voice. Isaac Wyman was chosen lieutenant-colo- 
nel, and Andrew M'Clary, major. They soon had ten 
or twelve full companies, and began exercising their 
men with all possible diligence and activity. As he had 
left a considerable farm, and numerous family of young 
children, at about ten minutes' notice, with no other equip- 
ments than a second shirt, he returned home in about 
twenty days, arranged his affairs as well as he could, (in 
two days that he tarried,) and returned to the army for 
the campaign. Soon after joining his regiment, he was 
instructed by general Ward to take a small escort, and 
examine Noddle's Island, preparatory to a project to 
raise some batteries to annoy the shipping in Boston 
harbour. He took major M'Clary, and one or two 
other officers, and crossed to the island from Chelsea. 
While in the act of examining the ground, they disco- 
vered a similar detachment of English, who had formed 
a project to cut them off, by seizing their boat. Timely 
vigilance frustrated their plan. After exchanging a few 

2 H 



362 STARK. 

shots, (no damage on the American side, the other un- 
known,) they reached the boat, and safely landed on terra 
firma. Soon after this, the battle of Bunker's Hill called 
his regiment into action, and it is an acknowledged fact, 
that they sustained the repeated attacks of the enemy 
with a resolution and success that would have done 
credit to chivalry in its most daring and respectable 
periods. When the fort was carried, and retreat be- 
came unavoidable, he drew off his men in tolerable or- 
der, although his soldiers were very unwilling to quit 
their position, as they had repulsed the enemy so often, 
that they considered themselves completely victorious. 
Immediately on the retreat, the lines were laid out on 
Winter Hill, and finished with uncommon zeal and en- 
thusiasm. The remainder of the campaign passed over 
Avithout any, more fighting. A few abortive projects, and 
settling the rank of the general and field officers, occu- 
pied the remainder of the season. Towards the close of 
the year it was deemed prudent to re-enlist the army. 
His exertions in this service were equal, and attended 
with the same success, as his courage and prudence in 
the field. The regiment was soon completed. 

On the evacuation of Boston, his regiment was ordered 
to New York, where he assisted in planning and exe- 
cuting the defences of that city, until May, when the re- 
giment was ordered to proceed by way of Albany to 
Canada. He left New York, and passing through the 
New England states, joined the army at St. John's early 
in June, and soon proceeded to the mouth of Sorrel. He 
opposed the expedition to Three Rivers as hazardous 
and imprudent. On the return of the remains of thai 
expedition, he accompanied his regiment to Chamblee, 
and was very active in rendering assistance to the sol- 
diers afflicted with the small-pox. After crossing lake 
Champlain, his regiment encamped on Chimney Point, 
until they were ordered to proceed to Ticonderoga. He 
M^as opposed to the removal, and got up a memorial in 
form of a protest against the measure; limits will not al- 
low the reasons to be given. General Schuyler being of 
a different opinion, the army was removed on the sixth 
or seventh of July. It was always his maxim to give 
his opinion firmly, and then obey the orders of the com- 



STARK. 363 

manding officer. On the morning after the arrival of 
the army at Tie, the declaration of independence was 
proclaimed to the army with shouts of applause. His 
post was Mount Independence, (named on the occasion,) 
then a wilderness. General Gates soon joined the army, 
and in the organization, he was appointed to command 
a brigade, and to clear and fortify the mount. Towards 
the close of the campaign, congress appointed several 
of the younger colonels, brigadiers; against which he 
protested, on the ground of insecurity of rank, and plant- 
ing the seeds of jealousy among the officers. 

On closing the campaign in the north, his regiment 
was ordered to Pennsylvania, and joined general Wash- 
ington at Newton, a few days before the battle of Tren- 
ton. He was instructed by general Sullivan to lead the 
vanguard, and by his promptness contributed his share 
in that bloodless and fortunate cou}') du main. He was 
with general Washington when he crossed the Delaware, 
and very active at the battle of Princeton, and continued 
with the general until he had established his winter 
quarters at Morristown. As the enlisted term of his 
3'egiment had expired, and only a small number could 
be induced to tarry a few weeks longer, he was ordered 
to New Hampshire, to recruit another regiment. 

Early in the month of March he summoned his offi- 
cers to hand him a return of their success, which fully 
equalling his expectations, he immediately gave notice 
to the council of New Hampshire, and general Wash- 
ington. Early in April he went to Exeter, to receive in- 
structions for the campaign, and was, for the first time, 
informed that a new list of promotions had been made, 
and his name omitted. He easily traced the cause to 
some officers of high rank, and members of congress, 
who were not pleased with his unbending character. He 
immediately called on the council, waited on general 
Sullivan and general Poor, explained his motives, wished 
them all possible success, surrendered his commission, 
and returned home without expectation of ever again 
taking the field : in the mean time fitted out all his own 
family old enough for service, assisted them to join the 
army, and continued his zeal for the national cause as 



364 STARK. 

heretofore. From this period to the retreat from Ticon- 
deroga, he was busily engaged in husbandry. 

On that disastrous event, New Hampshire was called 
on to recruit and forward men to check the advance of 
the enemy. The council immediately fixed their eyes 
on colonel Stark, and sent an express to notify him, and 
request a conference. Ever prompt when his country 
was in danger, he hastened to Exeter, and presented 
himself to the council. They soon. communicated their 
views, urged him to forget what had passed, and assume 
the command. He demanded a few hours for considera- 
tion, and returning, informed them that he had very little 
confidence in the then commanders of the north, and 
that he did not think that he could be useful with the 
army; but if they would raise as many men as they could, 
to hang on the Vermont wing and rear of the enemy, 
with condition that he should not be amenable to any 
other officer, and only accountable to their body, he 
would accept the appointment, and proceed immediately 
to the frontiers. They closed with the terms, and made 
out a commission and instructions accordingly. He was 
soon on the ground, and a considerable number of drafts 
and volunteers enabled him to form a small army of ob- 
servation. 

General Gates, who had succeeded to the command 
of the northern army, having learned that this body was 
encamped at Bennington, sent major-general Lincoln 
and suite to assume the command, and conduct them to 
head-quarters on North river. He presented his letter 
from general Gates, and his instructions, and proposed 
an immediate march. He was candidly informed of the 
objections, and wrote a statement to general Gates, who 
informed general Washington and congress, urging re- 
inforcements, as he had been pressed so close by Bur- 
goyne as to take post south side of Mohawk river. 
General Lincoln, after tarrying a few days in a private 
capacity, at Bennington, returned to the main army to 
consult with general Gates, on the critical state of af- 
fairs. In the mean time Burgoyne (probably apprized 
of these jarrings,) detached colonel Baum to beat up 
their quarters, and destroy the force on that wing. Ge- 
neral Stark was apprized of the advance on the four- 



STARK. 365 

teenth of August, and prepared for battle on the following 
morning. The fifteenth proved very rainy, and prevented 
the intended attack; at the same time enabled colonel 
Baum to surround his camp with a log breastwork. The 
weather proving favourable on the sixteenth, the troops 
were in motion at an early hour, and advanced to search 
for the enemy. He was found on an eminence forming 
a kind of sodded bluff, fronted by the Walloomschaick 
on the south, and a gradual slope to the north and west. 
His position was reconnoitred at about a mile distance, 
and the plan of attack arranged. Two detachments, one 
to the right and the other to the left, were commanded 
to turn his rear and advance directly to the intrenchment 
or lines, and to reserve their fire until they were very 
near. Fortunately they both arrived at their stations 
almost at the same minute, and by a rapid step, were at 
the works so soon that the enemy derived no advantage 
from their labour, and were pushed out of the fort with 
only firing a few shots, and driven directly on the re- 
serve, who soon decided the battle. The prisoners were 
collected and hurried off as soon as possible. At this 
critical moment information was brought that a rein- 
forcement was close upon them. The large portion of 
the troops taken to guard the prisoners, and the dispei-- 
sion for refreshments, plunder, and other purposes, left 
scarcely any men to resist them. At this critical period 
colonel Warner with a small detachment of his regiment, 
having heard the guns of the first battle, was hastening 
to support them, and now was directed to advance di- 
rectly and commence an attack, while other troops could 
be collected. These troops had been in service from the 
beginning of the war, and it was easy for their brave com- 
mander to bring them into action. They checked the 
enemy, and were continually reinforced by small squads 
until nearly sunset, when the enemy gave way at every 
point, abandoned their cannon, and were pursued until 
dark. Many prisoners were taken, but the main body 
retreated so rapidly, that they escaped by favour of the 
night. Upon the advance of Burgoyne, general Stark 
approached near the main army at Behman's heights, 
and finally entered the camp. On the eighteenth of Sep- 
tember the term of his troops expired. Great manage- 
3.H 2 



• 
366 STARK. 



ment was used to induce them to tarry a month, or even 
a fortnight; as it was seen that a battle must shortly 
take place, and general Gates was strongly impressed 
with the importance of these victorious troops to his 
camp ; but all to no purpose. They began their march 
home on the evening of the same day, and on the morn- 
ing of the nineteenth; and his service having been per- 
formed, he returned with them. No appearance was 
perceived of movements in Burgoyne's army until they 
had passed the North river, when it was seen in motion; 
and this militia had scarcely marched ten miles, when 
the battle began. Some of them turned about, but when 
the firing ceased, they pursued their march homeward. 
The news of the battle overtook them on the road. Ge- 
neral Stark passed one night at home, and then proceed- 
ed to Exeter to make report to the council, proclaiming 
that Burgoyne would certainly be taken if the people 
would turn out, and announced his determination to re- 
turn immediately. Volunteers from all quarters flocked 
to his standard, and he soon joined the army with a more 
numerous and formidable command than before. He 
was zealous for attacking Burgoyne in his camp, and 
for that purpose had placed his little army in the rear, 
so as to cut off all communication by way of lake George ; 
but perhaps capitulation was a more prudent, and equally 
certain course. 

The war being over in the northern department, he 
returned home, exerting all his influence to induce the 
people to furnish recruits and supplies for the next cam- 
paign. He had hardly reached his house, when congress 
ordered him to prepare a winter expedition for Canada, 
and to repair to Albany without delay, to receive further 
instructions. He was there at the appointed time, and 
then departed to Vermont, New Hampshire, and Massa- 
chusetts, to forward the preparations, and return to the 
general rendezvous at Albany at a given time. He per- 
formed his part, but congress gave up the project. 

Early in 1778, he was ordered to proceed to Albany, 
and assume the command of the northern department. 
This was the most unpleasant of his public services. He 
had very few troops, two extensive frontier rivers to 
g-uard, and to cap his troubles, he was surrounded with 



STARK. 367 

a kind of licensed tories, in the midst of spies, pecula- 
tors, and public defaulters. He laboured to reform the 
abuses in the department, and succeeded like most re- 
formers. Those who were detected, cursed him, and 
their friends complained ; and he gladly received an or- 
der in October, from general Washington, to join gene- 
ral Gates at Rhode Island, who had previously requested 
his assistance. General Hand succeeded him at Albany, 
but left the command shortly after for the same reasons, 
and with the same pleasure. 

On joining general Gates's head quarters at Provi- 
dence, he was ordered to take quarters at East Green- 
wich, principally on account of his popularity with the 
militia, that he might gain better information of the 
plans of the enemy on Rhode Island, and guard against 
any invasion. Here he continued until all opportunity 
for action was over for the season, when he was ordered 
to proceed to New Hampshire by way of Boston, to urge 
at both places the necessity of recruits and supplies. 

Early in the spring of 1779, he was ordered back to 
Providence, and instructed by general Gates to examine 
with close attention, all the shores and avenues from 
Providence to Point Judith, as well as all the coast on 
the east side of the bay as far as Mount Hope. As there 
were but few troops on the station, more than common 
vigilance was required to prevent inroads or plunder, 
and to establish a regular espionage; this being the only 
instance in which he ever descended to that mode of 
warfare : by this means, at the close of autumn, indica- 
tions were early discovered of a descent, or some other 
movement. He removed his quarters to Point Judith, 
but took care not to rest more than one or two nights in 
a place. Sometime in October, the views of the enemy 
were unmasked, and for some days his command was on 
constant duty. About the eighth or tenth of November, 
the enemy decamped, and early next morning he entered 
the lower end of Newport, and took possession of the 
town. Guards were immediately placed in the different 
streets to prevent plunder or confusion, and preserve or- 
der. At this time general Washington was fearful that 
on the arrival of the reinforcement from Newport at 
New York, some attempt might be made on his army, 



368 STARK. 

and ordered the troops that had blockaded Newport, 
(with the exception of a small garrison,) immediately to 
join him in New Jersey. No attempt being made by the 
enemy, about mid-winter general Washington requested 
him to proceed to New England, and back his requisi- 
tions for men and supplies. This duty being discharged, 
he joined the army at Morristown in the early part of 
May, and was present on Short Hills at the battle of 
Springfield, but not personally engaged. Soon after this 
action general Washington required him to proceed with 
all despatch to Massachusetts and New Hampshire, to 
urge a supply of men, money, and provision; to muster 
as many militia as he could by drafts and voluntary en- 
listments, and to accompany them to West Point. He 
landed them on the Point, while general Washington 
and suite had passed on to Hartford to confer with count 
Rochambeau and other French officers, a few days pre- 
vious to Arnold's desertion, and the day following joined 
his division at Liberty-Pole, New Jersey. In the latter 
end of September he was ordered to relieve the Pennsyl- 
vania troops under general St. Clair, which, on Arnold's 
desertion, had been ordered there. St. Clair marched 
his division the next day to Liberty-Pole. 

About this time general Washington having formed a 
project to surprise Staten Island, to mask his intentions, 
ordered general Stark with a detachment of twenty-five 
hundred men, with a large train of wagons and teams, 
to advance near York Island, and bring off all the corn 
and forage to be found, and to hover about New York 
until ordered back. Probably the British suspected 
some masked plan; but, be that as it may, they suf- 
fered this detachment to pillage the country to the very 
verge of Morrisania and Kingsbridge for several days, 
and then quietly return to West Point and Peekskill 
with their booty. Soon after this the army withdrew 
from Liberty-Pole, and went into winter quarters at 
West Point, New Windsor, and Fishkill. Here general 
Stark was visited with a severe fit of sickness, which 
left him very weak, and about the middle of January, 
1781, he obtained leave to return to New Hampshire, 
with the standing order to press for men and supplies. 
He journeyed by short stages, and arrived at his house 



STARk. 369 

still more weak and feeble. His health returning with 
the approach of spring, he was ordered to Albany to 
take command of the northern department, and establish 
his head quarters at Saratoga. 

Some feeble detachments of militia from New York, 
Massachusetts, and New Hampshire, were collected to 
protect the northern frontiers. It was soon discovered 
that the country was inundated with spies and traitors ; 
houses robbed, (on political principles,) and inhabitants, 
non-combatants^ carried prisoners to Canada. The house 
of general Schuyler, one mile from the capitol of Alba- 
ny, was attacked, several articles stolen, and two or three 
of his servants and labourers carried to Canada. He only 
saved himself by retreating to a chamber, barricading 
the door that they could not force it, and firing through 
it when it was attempted to be broken. The firing raised 
the military from the city, and the marauders fled with 
their prisoners and booty. 

Bad as the country was in 1778, it was infinitely worse 
in 178 1. Some few days after the military post was" esta- 
blished at Saratoga, one of these detachments was ar- 
rested within the lines. A British lieutenant's commission 
was found on the commander. He had been a refugee 
from that quarter, and was known. A board of officers, 
summoned to examine the case, pronounced him a spy, 
and gave their opinion for hanging. He was executed 
the next day. Complaints were made by his friends and 
connexions in and about Albany, of the danger of reta- 
liation. General Washington demanded a copy of the 
proceedings ; it was sent, and no further notice taken of 
it. The cure of the body politic was radical: none of 
those parties ventured into the country again during the 
war. 

Immediately after the reduction of Cornwallis, the 
danger of inroads from Canada was dissipated. Stark 
dismissed the militia with thanks for their good con- 
duct; secured the public stores, and was ordered to re- 
tire by way of Albany, with instructions to continue his 
efforts to raise men, money, and supplies, in New Eng- 
land for the next campaign. 

In 1782, he was afflicted with rheumatisms, and va- 
rious chronical complaints, all the season, and did not 



370 ' STEUBEN. 

join the army: his complaints, however, yielded to re- 
pose, of which he immediately informed general Wash- 
ington, and was ordered to join the army early in April, 
1783, at West Point. He was on the spot on the day 
appointed, and received the hearty thanks of general 
Washington for his punctuality. He aided and encour- 
aged the army to separate without confusion, and not 
tarnish their laurels by any act of resistance or usurpa- 
tion. Soon after this he returned home, and devoted 
the remainder of his patriarchal life to the various du- 
ties of patriot, friend, neighbour, and father to an exten- 
sive family. His long and useful life terminated on the 
eighth of May, 1822. 

The neighbouring militia vied with each other for 
permission to render the last honorary duties to the de- 
parted patriot. Captain Eaton's light infantry of GofFs- 
town, was selected from the numerous applicants, and 
performed the duty with great respect, and the most 
perfect order and discipline. "At his own request he 
was interred on his farm, on the border of the Merri- 
mack river. 






STEUBEN, Frederick William, a major-general in 
the American army, was a Prussian officer, who served 
many years in the armies of the great Frederick, was 
one of his aids, and had held the rank of lieutenant-ge- 
neral. He arrived in New Hampshire from Marseilles, 
in November, 1777, with strong recommendations to 
congress. He claimed no rank, and only requested per- 
mission to render as a volunteer what services he could 
to the American army. He was soon appointed to the 
office of inspector-general, with the rank of major-gene- 
ral, and he established a uniform system of manoeuvres, 
and by his skill and persevering industry effi^cted, dur- 
ing the continuance of the troops at Valley Forge, a 
most important improvement in all ranks of the army. 
He was a volunteer in the action at Monmouth, and 



SULLIVAN. 37 i 

rommanded in the trenches of Yorktown on the day 
which concluded the struggle with Great Britain. 

During his command, lord Cornwallis made his over- 
ture for capitulation. The proposals were immediately- 
despatched to the commander in chief, and the negotia- 
tion progressed. The marquis De Lafayette, whose tour 
it was next to mount guard in the trenches, marched to 
relieve the baron, who, to his astonishment, refused to 
be relieved. He informed general De Lafayette, that the 
custom of European war was in his favour, and that it 
was a point of honour which he could neither give up 
for himself, nor deprive his troops of; that the offer to 
capitulate had been made during his guard, and that in 
the trenches he would remain until the capitulation was 
signed, or hostilities commenced. The marquis imme- 
diately galloped to head quarters : general Washington 
decided in favour of the baron, to the joy of one, and to 
the mortification of the other, of those brave and valua- 
ble men. The baron remained till the business was finish- 
ed. After the peace, the baron retired to a farm in the 
vicinity of New York. The state of New Jersey had 
given him a small improved farm, and the state of New 
York gave him a tract of sixteen thousand acres of land 
in the county of Oneida. 

The baron died at Steubenville, New York, Novem- 
ber 28, 1794, aged sixty-one years. He was an accom- 
plished gentleman, and a virtuous citizen; of extensive 
knowledge and sound judgment. 



SULLIVAN, John, a major-general in the American 
army, was the eldest son of Mr. Sullivan, who came 
from Ireland, and settled in Massachusetts. In 1775, 
congress appointed him a brigadier-general, and in the 
following year, it is believed, a major-general. He su- 
perseded Arnold in the command of the army in Canada, 
June 4, 1776, but was soon driven out of that province. 
Afterwards, on the illness of Greene, he took the com- 
mand of his division on Long Island. In the battle of 



372 SULLIVAN; 

August the twenty-seventh, he was taken prisoner. In 
a few months, however, he was exchanged ; for when 
Lee was carried off, he took the command of his divi- 
sion in New Jersey. On the twenty-second of August, 
1777, he planned and executed an expedition against 
Staten Island, for which, on inquiry into his conduct, he 
received the approbation of the court. In September he 
was engaged in the battle of Brandywine, and on the 
fourth of October, in that of Germantown. In the win- 
ter he was detached to command the troops in Rhode 
Island. In August, 1778, he laid siege to Newport, then 
in the hands of the British, with the fullest confidence 
of success; but being abandoned by the French fleet un- 
der D'Estaing, who sailed to Boston, he was obliged, to 
his unutterable chagrin, to raise the siege. On the twen- 
ty-ninth an action took place with the pursuing enemy, 
who were repulsed. On the thirtieth, with great military 
skill, he passed over to the continent, without the loss 
of a single article, and without the slightest suspicion 
on the part of the British of his movements. In the 
summer of 1779, he commanded an expedition against 
the six nations of Indians. 

" The bloody tragedy acted at Wyoming in 1778, had 
determined the commander in chief, in 1779, to employ 
a large detachment from the continental army to pene- 
trate into the heart of the Indian country, to chastise the 
hostile tribes, and their white associates and adherents, 
for their cruel aggressions on the defenceless inhabitants. 
The command of this expedition was committed to ma- 
jor-general Sullivan, with express orders to destroy their 
settlements, to ruin their crops, and make such thorough 
devastations, as to render the country entirely uninha- 
bitable for the present, and thus to compel the savages 
to remove to a greater distance from our frontiers. Ge- 
neral Sullivan had under his command several briga- 
diers, and a well chosen army, to which were attached 
a number of friendly Indian warriors. With this force 
he penetrated about ninety miles through a horrid 
swampy wilderness, and barren mountainous deserts, to 
Wyoming, on the Susquehanna river, thence by water 
to Tioga, and possessed himself of numerous towns and 
villages of the savages. During this hazardous expedi- 



STEVENS. 37 S 

tion, general Sullivan and his army encountered the most 
complicated obstacles, difficulties and hardships, and re- 
quiring the greatest fortitude and perseverance to sur- 
mount. He explored an extensive tract of country, and 
strictly executed the severe, but necessary orders he had 
received. A considerable number of Indians were slain, 
some were captured, their habitations were burnt, and 
their plantations of corn and vegetables laid waste in 
the most effectual manner. Eighteen villages, a number 
of detached buildings, one hundred and sixty thousand 
bushels of corn, and those fruits and vegetables which 
conduce to the comfort and subsistence of man, were 
utterly destroyed. Five weeks were unremittingly em- 
ployed in this work of devastation." On his return from 
the expedition, he and his army received the approba- 
tion of congress. 

In about three months from his setting out, general 
Sullivan reached Easton, in Pennsylvania, and soon after 
rejoined the army. 

In the years 1786, 1787, and 1789, general Sullivan 
was president of New Hampshire, in which station, by 
his vigorous exertions, he quelled the spirit of insurrec- 
tion, which exhibited itself at the time of the troubles 
in Massachusetts. He died January 23, 1795, aged fifty- 
four years. 






STEVENS, Edward, a distinguished officer in the 
revolutionary war, was born in Culpepper county, Vir- 
ginia. He engaged early in the contest for our liberties, 
nor did he sheathe his sword until the achievement of 
national independence. His military career commenced 
at the battle of the Great Bridge, near Norfolk, Virginia, 
where he commanded a battalion of riflemen. Distin- 
guished on that occasion by his valour and good con- 
duct, he immediately attracted public attention, as an 
individual peculiarly fitted for utility in the arduous 
struggles of the revolution. He was shortly after appoint- 
ed to command the tenth Virginia regiment, which, being 
2 I 



374 STEVENS. 

Speedily raised, equipped, and organized, colonel Stevens 
marched to the north, and came under the immediate 
command of general Washington. The first occasion 
that presented itself for the distinction of this regiment, 
occurred at the battle of Brandywine, on the 11th of 
September, 1 177. It was here that the gallant exertions of 
this intrepid officer served, in a great measure, to protect 
the continental army from annihilation. Colonel Stevens 
was not brought into action until the retreat had begun ; 
he was then charged to cover the rear, and impede the 
pursuit of the enemy. With the co-operation of a Pennsyl- 
vania regiment, Stevens seized an advantageous piece of 
ground on the road, taken by the defeated army, pro- 
tecting the second and eleventh regiments from capture, 
checking the enemy, and securing the retreat. His or- 
ders were here gallantly executed, making an impression 
on the hostile army, which induced the British general 
to look to his own safety, and abandon the pursuit. Co- 
lonel Stevens received, on the succeeding day, the public 
thanks of the commander in chief. The battle of Ger- 
mantown took place in October following, where the 
tenth Virginia regiment was alike distinguished by its 
intrepid courage, which again produced for its gallant 
chief the public acknowledgments of Washington. 

Colonel Stevens now filled a large space in the hopes 
of his native state ; he was called to the command of a 
brigade; and the next theatre presented to his valour 
was at the battle of Camden. In the council of war, im- 
mediately preceding this action, the memorable reply of 
brigadier Stevens, (to the interrogatory put to the board,) 
"It is too late to retreat now; we must fight," was made. 
This answer was followed by the order of the American 
general, without further counsel; "Then, gentlemen, re- 
pair to your several posts;" a decisive evidence of the 
high confidence reposed by him in the discretion and 
capacity of general Stevens. The issue of this affair was 
unfavourable ; and although the gallantry and conduct 
of Stevens exempted him from all imputations, yet no 
officer felt more deep and mortifying chagrin at the tar- 
nished lustre of our arms. He felt so sorely the calami- 
ties of the day, that he would have returned from the 
southern campaign, but for the pressing solicitude of 



STEVENS. 375 

general Greene, who, soon after assuming command of 
this department of the continental forces, was unwilling 
to lose the services of an officer so distinguished for all 
those trials of military character which produce prac- 
tical utility. The battle of Guilford court-house furnished 
brigadier Stevens an opportunity of reviving the de- 
spondent hopes of the south, and warding off evils, with 
which he had been unluckily beset at Camden. The 
North Carolina militia formed the first line; Stevens's 
brigade of Virginia militia the second. So soon as the 
enemy approached the first line, within one hundred and 
forty yards, a scattered fire commenced, when this line 
threw down their arms, and fled to the second with pre- 
cipitation. Stevens, possessing that happy presence of 
mind, so necessary in action to draw benefit even from 
calamity, directed his troops to open their ranks, and 
permit them to pass ; and, to prevent the panic's infest- 
ing his command, he gave out that they had been ordered 
to retreat upon the first fire. At this battle he took the 
precaution to station a body of picked riflemen forty 
yards in the rear of his brigade, with positive orders to 
shoot down the first man who attempted to break the 
ranks or escape. He received here a severe wound in 
the thigh, though he did not quit the field until he had 
rendered great services, and brought off his troops in 
good order: general Greene bestowed on him marked 
commendation. The siege of York, and the capture of 
the British army under lord Cornwallis, soon closed the 
important scene of the revolution. It was here that ge- 
neral Stevens preserved and increased his well-earned 
honours. The commander in chief repeatedly assigned 
him important duties, which called for the best efforts 
of valour and skill ; these were faithfully executed ; and 
it is confidently asserted, that no officer possessed a 
larger share of his respect and confidence. During all 
this period, he was a zealous patriot in the civil depart- 
ment of the government. From the foundation of the 
state constitution, until the year 1790, he was a member 
of the senate of Virginia; always useful, esteemed, and 
respected. He was at Charlottesville, in the legislature, 
when Tarleton invaded the commonwealth, and dispersed 
that body; his plan was, to arm the citizens, meet Tarle- 



376 WARREN. 

ton at the river below the village, and fight him. This 
counsel was not executed, and he narrowly escaped cap- 
ture, by the more elegant equipment of a person flying 
i short distance before him. 

The character of general Stevens may be given in a 
few words : No man on earth possessed the cardinal 
virtues in a higher degree; firm, patient, and deliberative; 
with a sound judgment, singleness of heart, unblemished 
lid incorruptible integrity; honest patriotism, which 
• spised all state tricks; an unbounded and immoveable 
courage. For the sphere of practical utility and public 
benefit he was well fitted ; born with little brilliant em- 
bellishment, he had all the qualities for real and substan- 
tial service; without regarding the influence of faction 
and party, but loving the general principles of civil li- 
berty, his feelings were always on the side of his country. 
His heart was the abode of that patriotism, which, 
spurning parties, cleaved to the constitution of the na- 
tion, as a holy ark, which contains at once the evidence 
of our glory, and the charter of our liberties. 

He died at his seat in Culpepper county, Virginia, on 
the 17th day of August, 1820. 



^••Hf^© ^5 ©44H*"» 



WARREN, Joseph, a major-general in the American 
army, during the revolutionary war, was born in Rox- 
bury, a town which bounds Boston, Massachusetts, in 
1740. In 1755, he entered college, where he sustained 
the character of a youth of talents, fine manners, and of 
a generous, independent deportment, united to great per- 
sonal courage and perseverance. An anecdote will illus- 
trate his fearlessness and determination at that age, when 
character can hardly be said to be formed. Several stu- 
dents of Warren's class shut themselves in a room to 
arrange some college affairs, in a way which they knew 
was contrary to his wishes, and barred the door so ef- 
fectually, that he could not, without great violence, force 
it; but he did not give over the attempt of getting among 
them, for perceiving that the window of the room in 



WARREN. 377 

which they were assembled was open, and near a spout 
which extended from the roof of the building to the 
ground, he went to the top of the house, slid down the 
eaves, seized the spout, and when he had descended as 
far as the window, threw himself into the chamber 
among them. At that instant the spout, which was de- 
cayed, and very weak, gave way and fell to the ground. 
He looked at it without emotion, said it had served his 
purpose, and began to take part in the business. He 
was educated at Harvard college, and received his first 
degree in 1759. Directing his attention to medical 
studies, he, in a few years, became one of the most emi- 
nent physicians in Boston. But he lived at a period when 
greater objects claimed his attention, than those which 
related particularly to his profession. His country need- 
ed his efforts, and his zeal and courage would not permit 
him to shrink from any labours or dangers. His elo- 
quence and his talents as a writer, were displayed on 
many occasions, from the year in which the stamp act 
was passed, to the commencement of the war. He was 
a bold politician. While many were wavering with re- 
gard to the measures which should be adopted, he con- 
tended that every kind of taxation, whether external or 
internal, was tyranny, and ought immediately to be re- 
sisted ; and he believed that America was able to with- 
stand any force that could be sent against her. From 
the year 1768, he was a principal member of the secret 
meeting or caucus in Boston, which had great influence 
on the concerns of the country. With all his boldness, 
and decision, and zeal, he was circumspect and wise. 
In this assembly the plans of defence were miatured. 
After the destruction of the tea, it was no longer kept a 
secret. He was twice chosen the public orator of the 
town, on the anniversary of the massacre, and his ora- 
tions breathed the energy of a great and daring mind. 
It was he, who, on the evening before the battle of Lex- 
ington, obtained information of the intended expedition 
against Concord, and at ten o'clock at night despatched 
an express to Messrs. Hancock and Adams, who were 
at Lexington, to warn them of their danger. He him- 
self, on the next day, the memorable 19th of April, was 
very active. It is said in general Heath's memoirs, that 
3 I 2 



378 WARREN. 

a ball took off part of his ear-lock. In the confused state 
of the army, which soon assembled at Cambridge, he 
had vast influence in preserving order among the troops. 
After the departure of Hancock to congress, he was 
chosen president of the provincial congress in his place. 
Four days previous to the battle of Bunker's, or Breed's 
Hill, he received his commission of major-general. When 
the intrenchments were made upon the fatal spot, to en- 
courage the men within the lines, he went down from 
Cambridge, and joined them as a volunteer, on the event- 
ful day of the battle, June 17th. Just as the retreat com- 
menced, a ball struck him on the head, and he died in 
the trenches, aged thirty-five years. He was the first 
victim of rank that fell in the struggle with Great Bri- 
tain. In the spring of 1776, his bones were taken up 
and entombed in Boston, on which occasion, as he had 
been grand master of the freemasons in America, a bro- 
ther mason, and an eloquent orator, pronounced a fune- 
ral eulogy. 

In this action, the number of Americans engaged 
amounted only to fifteen hundred. The loss of the Bri- 
tish, as acknowledged by general Gage, amounted to one 
thousand and fifty-four. Nineteen commissioned officers 
v/ere killed, and seventy more were wounded. The battle 
of Quebec, in 1758, which gave Great Britain the pro- 
vince of Canada, was not so destructive to British offi- 
cers, as this affair of a slight intrenchment, the work only 
of a few hours. 

The Americans lost five pieces of cannon. Their kill- 
ed amounted to one hundred and thirty-nine. Their 
wounded and missing to three hundred and fourteen. 
Thirty of the former fell into the hands of the conquer- 
ors. They particularly regretted the death of general 
Warren. To the purest patriotism and most undaunted 
bravery, he added the virtues of domestic life, the elo- 
quence of an accomplished orator, and the wisdom of 
an able statesman. 

Thus was cut off, in the flower of his age, this gallant 
hero, loved, lamented, the theme of universal regret; a 
loss, any time deeply, but then, most poignantly felt. 
Though he did not outlive the glories of that great oc- 
casion, he had lived long enough for fame. It needed nu 



WASHINGTON. 381 

to his elder brother, Mr. Lawrence Washington, who, 
in the year 1740, had been engaged in the expedition 
against Carthagena. In honour of the British admiral, 
who commanded the fleet employed in that enterprise, 
the estate was called Mount Vernon. At the age of fif- 
teen, agreeably to the wishes of his brother, as well as 
to his own urgent request to enter into the British navy, 
the place of a midshipman in a vessel of war, then sta- 
tioned on the coast of Virginia, was obtained for him. 
Every thing was in readiness for his departure, when 
the fears of a timid and affectionate mother prevailed 
upon him to abandon his proposed career on the ocean, 
and were the means of retaining him upon the land, to 
be the future vindicator of his country's rights. All the 
advantages of education which he enjoyed, were derived 
from a private tutor, who instructed him in English 
literature, and the general principles of science, as well 
as in morality and religion. After his disappointment, 
with regard to entering the navy, he devoted much of 
his time to the study of mathematics ; and in the prac- 
tice of his profession as a surveyor, he had an opportu- 
nity of acquiring that information respecting the value 
of vacant lands, which afterwards greatly contributed to 
the increase of his private fortune. At the age of nine- 
teen, when the militia of Virginia were to be trained for 
actual service, he was appointed an adjutant-general, 
with the rank of major. It was for a very short time 
that he discharged the duties of that office. In the year 
1753, the plan formed by France, for connecting Canada 
with Louisiana by a line of posts, and thus of enclosing 
the British colonies, and of establishing her influence 
over the numerous tribes of Indians on the frontiers, be- 
gan to be developed. In the prosecution of this design, 
possession had been taken of a tract of land, then believed 
to be within the province of Virginia. Mr. Dinwiddle, 
the lieutenant-governor, being determined to remonstrate 
against the proposed encroachment and violation of the 
treaties between the two countries, despatched major 
Washington through the wilderness to the Ohio, to de- 
liver a letter to the commanding officer of the French, 
and also to explore the country. This trust of danger 
and fatigue, he executed with great ability. He left 



382 WASHINGTON. 

Williamsburg, October 31, 1753, the very day on which 
he received his commission, and at the frontier settle- 
ment of the English, engaged guides to conduct him 
over the Allegheny mountains. 

At a place upon the Allegheny called Murdering 
town, they fell in with a hostile Indian, who was one of 
the party then lying in wait, and who fired upon them 
not ten steps distant. They took him into custody, and 
kept him until nine o'clock, and then let him go. To 
avoid the pursuit which they presumed would be com- 
menced in the morning, they travelled all night. On 
reaching the Monongahela, they had a hard day's work 
to make a raft with a hatchet. In attempting to cross 
the river to reach a trader's house, they were enclosed 
by masses of ice. In order to stop the raft, major Wash- 
ington put down his setting pole, but the ice came with 
such force against it, as to jerk him into the water. He 
saved himself by seizing one of the raft logs. With dif- 
ficulty they landed on an island, where they passed the 
night. The cold was so severe, that the pilot's hands 
and feet were frozen. The next day they crossed the river 
upon the ice. Washington arrived at Williamsburg, 
January 16, 1754. His journal, which evinced the soli- 
dity of his judgment and his fortitude, was published. 

As the French seemed disposed to remain on the Ohio, 
it was determined to raise a regiment of about three 
hundred men to maintain the claims of the British crown. 
The corhmand was given to Mr. Fry ; and major Wash- 
ington, who was appointed lieutenant-colonel, marched 
with two companies early in April, 1754, in advance of 
the other troops. A few miles west of the Great Mea- 
dows, he surprised a French encampment in a dark 
rainy night, and only one man escaped. Before the ar- 
rival of the two remaining companies, Mr. Fry died, and 
the command devolved on colonel Washington. Being 
joined by two other companies of regular troops from 
South Carolina and New York, after erecting a small 
stockade at the Great Meadows, he proceeded towards 
fort Du Quesne, which had been built but a short time, 
with the intention of dislodging the French. He had 
inarched only thirteen miles, to the westernmost foot of 
Laurel Hill, before he received information of the ap- 



WASHINGTON, 383 

proach of the enemy with superior numbers, and was 
induced to return to his stockade. He began a ditch 
around it, and called it fort Necessity; but the next day, 
July 3, he was attacked by fifteen hundred men. His 
own troops were only four hundred in number. The ac- 
tion commenced at ten in the morning, and lasted until 
dark. A part of the Americans fought within the fort, 
and a part in the ditch filled with mud and water. Colo- 
nel Washington was himself on the outside of the fort 
during the whole day. The enemy fought under cover 
of the trees and high grass. In the course of the night, 
articles of capitulation were agreed upon. The garrison 
were allowed to retain their arms and baggage, and to 
march unmolested to the inhabited parts of Virginia. 
The loss of the Americans in killed and wounded, was 
supposed to be about a hundred, and that of the enemy 
about two hundred. In a few months afterwards orders 
were received for settling the rank of the officers, and 
those who were commissioned by the king being directed 
to take rank of the provincial officers, colonel Washing- 
ton indignantly resigned his commission. 

He now retired to Mount Vernon, that estate, by the 
death of his brother, having devolved upon him. But 
in the spring of 1755, he accepted an invitation from ge- 
neral Braddock to enter his family as a volunteer aid-de- 
camp in his expedition to the Ohio. He proceeded^with 
him to Will's creek, afterwards called fort Cumberland, 
in April. After the troops had marched a few miles 
from this place, he was seized with a raging fever; but 
refusing to remain behind, he was conveyed in a covered 
wagon. By his advice, twelve hundred men were de- 
tached in order to reach fort Du Quesne, before an ex- 
pected reinforcement should be received at that place. 
These disincumbered troops were commanded by Brad- 
dock himself, and colonel Washington, though still ex- 
tremely ill, insisted upon proceeding with them. After 
they arrived upon the Monongahela, he advised the ge- 
neral to employ the ranging companies of Virginia to 
scour the woods and prevent ambuscades ; but his advice 
was not followed. On the ninth of July, when the army 
was within seven miles of fort Du Quesne, the enemy 
commenced a sudden and furious attack, being concealed 



384 WASHINGTON. 

by the woods and grass. Washington was the only aid 
that was unwounded, and on him devolved the whole 
duty of carrying the orders of the commander in chief. 
He was cool and fearless. Though he had two horses 
shot under him, and four balls through his coat, he escap- 
ed unhurt, while every officer on horseback was either 
killed or wounded. Doctor Craik, the physician who 
attended him in his last sickness, was present in this 
battle, and says, *' I expected every moment to see him 
fall. Nothing but the superintending care of Providence 
could have saved him from the fate of all around him.** 
After an action of three hours, the troops gave way in 
all directions, and colonel Washington and two others 
brought off Braddock, who had been mortally wounded. 
He attempted to rally the retreating troops ; but, as he 
says himself, it was like endeavouring" to stop the wild 
bears of the mountains." The conduct of the regular 
troops was most cowardly. The enemy were few in 
numbers, and had no expectation of victory. In a sermon 
occasioned by this expedition, the reverend Dr. Davies, 
of Hanover county, thus prophetically expressed him- 
self: "as a remarkable instance of patriotism, I may 
point out to the public that heroic youth, colonel Wash- 
ington, whom I cannot but hope Providence has hitherto 
preserved in so signal a manner, for some important 
service to his country." For this purpose he was indeed 
preserved, and at the end of twenty years, he began to 
render to his country more important services, than the 
minister of Jesus could have anticipated. From 1755 to 
1759, he commanded a regiment, which was raised for 
the protection of the frontiers. 

In July, 1758, another expedition was undertaken 
against fort Du Quesne, in which Washington com- 
manded the Virginia troops. By slow marches they 
were enabled, on the 25th of November, to reach fort 
Du Quesne, of which, peaceable possession was taken, 
as the enemy, on the preceding night, setting it on fire, 
had abandoned it, and proceeded down the Ohio. The 
works in this place were repaired, and its name was 
changed to that of fort Pitt. Colonel Washington now 
resigned his commission. 

Soon after his resignation he was married to the widow 



WASHINGTON. 385 

tjf Mr. Custis, a young lady, to whom he had been for 
isome time strongly attached, and who, to a large fortune 
and a fine person, added those amiable accomplishments, 
which fill with silent felicity the scenes of domestic life. 
His attention for several years, was principally directed 
to the management of his estate, which had now become 
considerable. He was, at this period, a respectable mem- 
ber of the legislature of Virginia, in which he took a 
decided part in opposition to the principle of taxation, 
asserted by the British parliament. He also acted as 
a judge of a county court. In 1774, he was elected a 
member of the first congress, and was placed on all those 
committees whose duty it was to make arrangements 
for defence. In the following year, after the battle of 
Lexington, when it was determined by congress to re- 
sort to arms, colonel Washington was unanimously 
elected commander in chief of the army of the united 
colonies. All were satisfied as to his qualifications, and 
the delegates from New England were particularly 
pleased with his election, as it would tend to unite the 
southern colonies cordially in the war. He accepted tlic 
appointment with diffidence, and expressed his intention 
of receiving no compensation for his services, and only 
a mere discharge of his expenses. He immediately re- 
paired to Cambridge, in the neighbourhood of Boston, 
where he arrived on the second of July. He formed the 
army into three divisions, in order the more effectually 
to enclose the enemy, intrusting the division at Roxbury 
to general Ward, the division on Prospect and Winter 
Hills to general Lee, and commanding himself the cen- 
tre at Cambridge. Here he had to struggle with great 
difficulties, with the want of ammunition, clothing, and 
magazines, defect of arms and discipline, and the evils of 
short enlistments ; but instead of yielding to despondence, 
he bent the whole force of his mind to overcome them. 
He soon made the alarming discovery, that there was 
only sufficient powder on hand to furnish the army with 
nine cartridges for each man. With the greatest cau- 
tion, to keep this fact a secret, the utmost exertions were 
employed to procure a supply. A vessel which was de- 
spatched to Africa, obtained, in exchange for New Eng- 
land rum, all the gunpowder in the British factories ; 
2 It 



386 WASHINGTON. 

and in the beginning of winter, captain Manly captured 
an ordnance brig, which furnished the American army 
with the precise articles of which it was in the greatest 
want. In September general Washington despatched 
Arnold on an expedition against Quebec. In February, 
1776, he proposed to a council of his officers, to cross 
the ice, and attack the enemy in Boston, but they unani- 
mously disapproved of the daring measure. It was, how- 
ever, soon resolved to take possession of the heights of 
Dorchester. This was done without discovery, on the 
night of the 4th of March, and on the 17th, the enemy 
found it necessary to evacuate the town. The recovery 
of Boston induced congress to pass a vote of thanks to 
general Washington and his brave army. 

In the belief that the efforts of the British would be 
directed towards the Hudson, he hastened the army to 
New York, where he himself arrived on the 1 4th of 
April. He made every exertion to fortify the city, and 
attention was paid to the forts in the highlands. While 
he met the most embarrassing difficulties, a plan was 
formed to assist the enemy in seizing his person, and 
some of his own guards engaged in the conspiracy; but 
it was discovered, and some who were concerned in it 
were executed. In the beginning of July, general Howe 
landed his troops at Staten Island: his brother, lord 
Howe, who commanded the fleet, soon arrived ; and as 
both were commissioners for restoring peace to the co- 
lonies, the latter addressed a letter upon the subject, to 
'' George Washington, esquire ;" but the general refused 
to receive it, as it did not acknowledge the public cha- 
racter with which he was invested by congress, in which 
character only he could have any intercourse with his 
lordship. Another letter was sent to " George Wash- 
ington, &c. &c. See." This, for the same reason, was 
rejected. After the disastrous battle of Brooklyn, on the 
27th of August, in which Sterling and Sullivan were 
taken prisoners, and of which he was only a spectator, 
he withdrew the troops from Long Island, and in a few 
days he resolved to withdraw from New York. At Kipp's 
bay, about three miles from the city, some works had 
been thrown up to oppose the enemy ; but, on their ap- 
proach, the American troops fled with precipitation 



WASHINGTON. 387 

Washington rode towards the lines, and made every 
exertion to prevent the disgraceful flight. Such was 
the state of his mind at this moment, that he turned his 
horse towards the advancing enemy, apparently with the 
intention of rushing upon death ; but his aids seized the 
bridle of his horse, and rescued him from destruction. 
New York was, on the same day, September 15th, eva- 
cuated. In October he retreated to the White Plains, 
where, on the 28th, a considerable action took place, in 
which the Americans were overpowered. After the loss 
of forts Washington and Lee, he passed into New Jer- 
sey, in November, and was pursued by a triumphant 
and numerous army. His army did not amount to three 
thousand, and it was daily diminishing; his men, as the 
winter commenced, were bare-footed, and almost naked, 
destitute of tents, and of utensils with which to dress 
their scanty provisions; and every circumstance tended 
to fill the mind with despondence. But general Wash- 
ington was undismayed and firm. He showed himself 
to his enfeebled army with a serene and unembarrassed 
countenance, and they were inspired with the resolution 
of their commander. On the 8th of December he was 
obliged to cross the Delaware ; but he had the precau- 
tion to secure the boats for seventy miles upon the river. 
While the British were waiting for the ice to afford them 
a passage, as his own army had been reinforced by seve- 
ral thousand men, he formed the resolution of carrying 
the cantonments of the enemy by surprise. On the night 
of the 25th of December, he crossed the river, nine miles 
above Trenton, in a storm of snow mingled with hail 
and rain, with about two thousand four hundred men. 
Two other detachments were unable to effect a passage. 
In the morning, precisely at eight o'clock, he surprised 
Trenton, and took one thousand Hessians prisoners, one 
thousand stand of arms, and six field pieces. Twenty 
of the enemy were killed, and of the Americans, two 
were killed, and two frozen to death, and one officer and 
four privates wounded. On the same day he recrossed 
the Delaware, with the fruits of his enterprise ; but in 
two or three days passed again into New Jersey, and 
concentrated his forces, amounting to five thousand, at 
Trenton. On the approach of a superior enemy, under 



388 WASHINGTON. 

Cornwallis, January 2, 1777, he drew up his men behind 
Assumpinck creek. He expected an attack in the morn- 
ing, which would probably result in a ruinous defeat. 
At this moment, when it was hazardous, if not imprac- 
ticable, to return into Pennsylvania, he formed the reso- 
lution of getting into the rear of the enemy, and thus 
stop them in their progress towards Philadelphia. In 
the night, he silently decamped, taking a circuitous route 
through Allentown to Princeton. A sudden change of 
the weather to severe cold, rendered the roads favourable 
for his march. About sunrise his van met a British 
detachment on its way to join Cornwallis, and was de- 
feated by it ; but as he came up, he exposed himself to 
every danger, and gained a victory. With three hundred 
prisoners he then entered Princeton. During this march 
many of his soldiers were without shoes, and their feet 
left the marks of blood upon the frozen ground. This 
hardship and their want of repose, induced him to lead 
his army to a place of security on the road to Morris- 
town. Cornwallis in the morning broke up his camp, 
and alarmed for his stores at Brunswick, urged the pur- 
suit. Thus the military genius of the American com- 
mander, under the blessing of divine Providence, rescued 
Philadelphia from the threatened danger, obliged the 
enemy, who had overspread New Jersey, to return to 
the neighbourhood of New York, and revived the de- 
sponding spirit of his country. Having accomplished 
these objects, he retired to Morristown, where he caused 
his whole army to be inoculated with the small-pox, 
and thus was freed from the apprehension of a calamity 
which might impede his operations during the next 
campaign. 

On the last of May he removed his army to Middle- 
brook, about ten miles from Brunswick, where he for- 
tified himself very strongly. An ineffectual attempt was 
made by sir William Howe to draw him from his posi- 
tion by marching towards Philadelphia ; but after Howe's 
return to New York, he moved towards the Hudson, in 
order to defend the passes in the mountains, in the ex- 
pectation that a junction with Burgoyne, who was then 
upon the lakes, would be attempted. After the British 
general sailed from New York, and entered the Chesa- 



WASHINGTON. 389 

peake in August, general Washington marched imme- 
diately for the defence of Philadelphia. On the 11th of 
SepLciuber he was defeated at Brandywine, with the loss 
of nine hundred in killed and wounded. A few days 
afterwards, as he was pursued, he turned upon the ene- 
my, determined upon another engagement; but a heavy 
rain so damaged the arms and ammunition, that he was 
under the absolute necessity of again retreating. Phila- 
delphia was entered by Cornwallis on the 26th of Sep- 
tember. On the 4th of October the American commander 
made a well planned attack upon the British camp at 
Germantown ; but in consequence of the darkness of the 
morning, and the imperfect discipline of the troops, it 
terminated in the loss of twelve hundred men in killed, 
wounded, and prisoners. In December, he went into 
winter quarters at Valley Forge, on the west side of the 
Schuylkill, between twenty and thirty miles from Phila- 
delphia. Here his army was in the greatest distress for 
want of provisions, and he was reduced to the necessity 
of sending out parties to seize what they could find. 
About the same time a combination was formed to re- 
move the commander in chief, and to appoint in his 
place general Gates, whose successes of late had given 
him a high reputation. But the name of Washington 
was too dear to the great body of Americans to admit 
of such a change. Notwithstanding the discordant ma- 
terials of which his army was composed, there was some- 
thing in his character which enabled him to attach both 
his officers and soldiers so strongly to him, that no dis- 
tress could weaken their affection, nor impair the vene- 
ration in which he was generally held. Without this 
attachment to him, the army must have been dissolved. 
General Conway, w ho was concerned in this faction, be- 
ing wounded in a duel with general Cadwalader, and 
thinking his wound mortal, wrote to general Washing- 
ton," you are, in my eyes, the great and good man." On 
the 1st of February, 1778, there were about four thou- 
sand men in camp unfit for duty for want of clothes. Of 
these, scarcely a man had a pair of shoes. The hospitals 
also were filled with the sick. At this time the enemy, 
if they had marched out of their winter quarters, would 
easily have dispersed the American army. The appre- 
3 R 3 



390 WASHli«OT6N. 

hension of the approach of a French fleet, induciiig' the» 
British to concentrate their forces, when they evacuated 
Philadelphia, on the 17th of June, and marched towards 
New York, general Washington followed them. Con- 
trary to the advice of a council, he engaged in the battle 
of Monmouth, on the 28th, the result of which made an 
impression favourable to the cause of America. He 
slept in his cloak, on the field of battle, intending to re- 
new the attack the next morning, but at midnight the 
British marched off in such silence, as not to be disco- 
vered. Their loss in killed was about three hundred, and 
that of the Americans sixty-nine. 

As the campaign now closed in the middle states, 
the American army went into winter quarters in the 
neighbourhood of the highlands upon the Hudson. Thus 
after the vicissitudes of two years, both armies were 
brought back to the point from which they set out. Dur- 
ing the year 1779, general Washington remained in the 
neighbourhood of New York. In January, 1780, in a 
winter memorable for its severity, his utmost exertions 
were necessary to save the army from dissolution. The 
soldiers in general submitted with heroic patience to the 
want of provisions and clothes. At one time they eat 
every kind of horse food but hay. Their sufferings at 
length were so great, that in March, two of the Connecti- 
cut regiments mutinied, but the mutiny was suppressed 
and the ringleaders secured. In September, the treachery 
of Arnold was detected. In the winter of 1781, such 
were again the privations of the army, that a part of the 
Pennsylvania line revolted, and marched home. Such, 
however, was still their patriotism, that they delivered 
some British emissaries to general Wayne, who hanged 
them as spies. Committing the defence of the posts on 
the Hudson to general Heath, general Washington in 
August marched with count Rochambeau for the Chesa- 
peake, to co-operate with the French fleet there. The 
siege of Yorktown commenced on the 28th of Septem- 
ber, and on the 10th of October he reduced Cornwallis 
to the necessity of surrendering, with upwards of seven 
thousand men, to the combined armies of America and 
France. The day after the capitulation, he ordered that 
those who were under arrest should be pardoned, and 



WASHlNGTOi* 591 

ihat divine service in acknowledgment of the interposi- 
tion of Providence, should be performed in all the bri- 
^des and divisions. This event filled America with 
joy, and was the means of terminating the war. 

Few events of importance took place in 1782. On the 
25th November, 1783, New York was evacuated by the 
British, and he entered it, accompanied by governor 
Clinton and many respectable citizens. On the 19th of 
April, a cessation of hostilities was proclaimed. On the 
4th of December, he took his farewell of his brave com- 
rades in arms. At noon the principal officers of the 
army assembled at Frances's tavern, and their beloved 
commander soon entered the room. His emotions were 
too strong to be concealed. Filling a glass with wine, 
he turned to them and said, " with a heart full of love 
and gratitude, I now take leave of you ; I most devoutly 
wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and 
happy, as your former ones have been glorious and ho- 
nourable." Having drank, he added, " I cannot come 
to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged to 
you if each of you will come and take me by the hand." 
General Knox, being nearest, turned to him. Incapable 
of utterance, general Washington grasped his hand, and 
embraced him. In the most affectionate manner he took 
his leave of each succeeding officer. In every eye was 
the tear of dignified sensibility, and not a word was ar- 
ticulated to interrupt the silence and tenderness of the 
scene. Ye men who delight in blood, slaves of ambition ! 
when your work of carnage was finished, could you 
thus part with your companions in crime r Leaving the 
room, general Washington passed through the light in- 
fantry and walked to Whitehall, where a barge waited 
to carry him to Powles' Hook. The whole company 
followed in mute procession, with dejected countenances. 
When he entered the barge he turned to them, and wav- 
ing his hat, bade them a silent adieu, receiving from 
them the same last affectionate compliment. On the 23d 
of December he resigned his commission to congress, 
then assembled at Annapolis. Here the expressions of 
the gratitude of his countrymen in affectionate addresses 
poured in upon him, and he received every testimony of 
respect and veneration. 



59 2 WASHINGTON. 

In 1787, he was persuaded to take a seat in the con- 
vention which formed the present constitution of the 
United States. In 1789, he was unanimously elected 
president of the United States. In April he left Mount 
Vernon to proceed to New York, and to enter on the 
duties of his office. He every where received testimo- 
nies of respect and love. On the 13th of April he ar- 
rived at New York, and he was inaugurated first president 
of the United States. At the close of his first term of 
four years, he prepared a valedictory address to the 
American people, anxious to return again to the scenes 
of domestic life; but the earnest entreaties of his friends, 
and the peculiar situation of his country, induced him 
to be a candidate for a second election. At the expira- 
tion of his second term, he determined irrevocably to 
withdraw to the shades of private life. He published in 
September, 1796, his farewell address to the people of 
the United States, which ought to be engraven upon the 
hearts of his countrymen. 

He then retired to Mount Vernon, giving to the world 
an example, most humiliating to its emperors and kings; 
the example of a man, voluntarily disrobing himself of 
the highest authority, and returning to private life, with 
a character, having upon it no stain of ambition, of co- 
vetousness, of profusion, of luxury, of oppression, or of 
injustice. 

In 1798, an army was raised, and he was appointed 
commander in chief. 

On the 13th of December, 1799, while attending to 
some improvements upon his estate, he was exposed to 
a light rain, which wetted his neck and hair. Unappre- 
hensive of danger, he passed the afternoon in his usual 
manner, but at night he was seized with an inflamma- 
tory affection of the windpipe. The disease commenced 
with a violent ague, accompanied with some pain, and a 
sense of stricture in the throat, a cough, and a difficult 
deglutition, which was soon succeeded by fever, and a 
quick and laborious respiration. About twelve or four- 
teen ounces of blood were taken from him. In the morn- 
ing, his family physician, doctor Craik, was sent for; 
but the utmost exertions of medical skill were applied 
in vain. To his friend and physician, who sat on his bed, 



WAVNU. 393 

and took his head in his lap, he said, with difficulty, 
** Doctor, I am dying, and have been dying for a long 
time; but I am not afraid to die.** Respiration became 
more and more protracted and imperfect, until half past 
eleven on Saturday night, when, retaining the full pos- 
session of his intellect, he expired without a struggle. 
Thus, on the 14th of December, 1799, in the sixty-eighth 
year of his age, died the father of his country, " the man 
first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his 
fellow-citizens." This event spread a gloom over the 
country, and the tears of America proclaimed the ser- 
vices and virtues of the hero and sage, and exhibited a 
people not insensible to his worth. 

General Washington was rather above the common 
stature; his frame was robust, and his constitution vigor- 
ous. His exterior created in the beholder the idea of 
strength united with manly gracefulness. His eyes were 
of a gray colour, and his complexion light. His manners 
were rather reserved than free. His person and whole 
deportment exhibited an unaifected and indescribable 
dignity, unmingled with haughtiness, of which all who 
approached him were sensible. The attachment of those 
who possessed his friendship was ardent, but always re- 
spectful. His temper was humane, benevolent, and con- 
ciliatory; but there was a quickness in his sensibility to 
any thing apparently offensive, which experience had 
taught him to watch and correct. 

He conducted the war with that consummate prudence 
and wisdom, which the situation of his country, and the 
state of his army demanded. He also possessed a firm- 
ness of resolution, which neither dangers nor difficulties 
could shake. 



WAYNE, Anthony, a major-general in the American 
army, occupies a conspicuous station among the heroes 
and patriots of the American revolution. He was born 
in the year 1745, in Chester county, in the state, then 
colony, of Pennsylvania* His father, who was a respect- 



394 WAVNE. 

able farmer, was many years a representative for the 
county of Chester, in the general assembly, before the 
revolution. His grandfather, who was distinguished for 
his attachment to the principles of liberty, bore a cap- 
tain's commission under king William, at the battle of 
the Boyne. Anthony Wayne succeeded his father as a 
representative for the county of Chester, in the year 
1775; and from his first appearance in public life, dis- 
tinguished himself as a firm and decided patriot. He 
opposed, with much ability, the unjust demands of the 
mother country, and in connexion with some gentlemen 
of distinguished talents, was of material service in pre- 
paring the way for the firm and decisive part which 
Pennsylvania took in the general contest. 

In 1775, he was appointed to the command of a regi- 
ment, which his character enabled him to raise in a few 
weeks, in his native county. In the same year, he was 
detached under general Thompson, into Canada. In the 
defeat which followed, in which general Thompson was 
made a prisoner, colonel Wayne, though wounded, dis- 
played great gallantry and good conduct, in collecting 
and bringing off the scattered and broken bodies of 
troops. 

In the campaign of 1776, he served under general 
Gates, at Ticonderoga, and was highly esteemed by that 
officer for both his bravery and skill as an engineer. At 
the close of that campaign he was created a brigadier- 
general. 

At the battle of Brandy wine, he behaved with his usual 
bravery, and for a long time opposed the progress of the 
enemy at Chad's ford. In this action, the inferiority of 
the Americans in numbers, discipline and arms, gave 
themvMttle chance of success ; but the peculiar situation 
of tlie public mind was supposed to require a battle to 
be risked ; the ground was bravely disputed, and the ac- 
tion was not considered as decisive. The spirits of the 
troops were preserved by a belief that the loss of the 
enemy had equalled their own. As it was the intention 
of the American commander in chief to hazard another 
action on the first favourable opportunity that should 
offer, general Wayne was detached with his division, to 
harass the enemy by every means in his power. The 



WAYNE. 395 

British troops were encamped at Tredyffrin, and gene- 
ral Wayne was stationed about three miles in the rear 
of their left wing, near the Paoli tavern, and from the 
precautions he had taken, he considered himself secure; 
but about eleven o'clock, on the night of the 20th Sep- 
tember, major-general Gray, having driven in his pick- 
ets, suddenly attacked him with fixed bayonets. Wayne, 
unable to withstand the superior number of his assail- 
ants, was obliged to retreat, but formed again at a small 
distance, having lost about one hundred and fifty killed 
and wounded. As blame was attached by some of the 
officers of the army, to general Wayne, for allowing him- 
self to be surprised in this manner, he demanded a court 
martial, which, after examining the necessary evidence, 
declared that he had done every thing to be expected 
from an active, brave, and vigilant officer; and acquitted 
him with honour. 

A neat marble monument has been recently erected 
on the battle ground, to the memory of the gallant men 
who fell on the night of the 20th September, 1777. 

Shortly after was fought the battle of Germantown, 
in which he greatly signalized himself, by his spirited 
manner of leading his men into action. In this action, 
he had one horse shot under him, and another as he was 
mounting; and at the same instant, received slight 
wounds in the left foot and left hand. 

In all councils of war, general Wayne was distinguish- 
ed for supporting the most energetic and decisive mea- 
sures. In the one previous to the battle of Monmouth, 
he and general Cadwalader Avere the only officers de- 
cidedly in favour of attacking the British army. The 
American officers are said to have been influenced by 
the opinions of the Europeans. The baron de Steuben, 
and generals Lee and Du Portail, whose military skill 
was in high estimation, had warmly opposed an engage- 
ment as too hazardous. But general Washington, whose 
opinion was in favour of an engagement, made such dis- 
position as would be most likely to lead to it. In that 
action, so honourable to the American arms, general 
Wayne was conspicuous in the ardour of his attack. 
General Washington, in his letter to congress, observes, 
" Were I to conclude my account of this day's transac- 



396 WAVNE. 

tions without expressing my obligations to the officers 
of the army in general, I should do injustice to their 
merit, and violence to my own feelings. They seemed 
to vie with each other in manifesting their zeal and 
bravery. The catalogue of those who distinguished 
themselves, is too long to admit of particularizing indi- 
viduals. I cannot, however, forbear mentioning briga- 
dier-general Wayne, whose good conduct and bravery, 
throughout the whole action, deserves particular com- 
mendation." 

In July, 1779, the American commander in chief hav- 
ing conceived a design of attacking the strong post of 
Stony Point, committed the charge of this enterprise to 
general Wayne. The garrison was composed of six 
hundred men, principally highlanders, commanded by 
lieutenant-colonel Johnson. Stony Point is a considerable 
height, the base of which, on the one side, is washed by 
the Hudson river, and on the other, is covered by a 
morass, over which there is but one crossing place. On 
the top of this hill was the fort : formidable batteries of 
heavy artillery were planted on it, in front of which, 
breast-works were advanced, and half way down was a 
double row of abattis. The batteries commanded the 
beach, and the crossing place of the morass. Several 
vessels of war were also in the river, whose guns com- 
manded the foot of the hill. At noon, on the fifteenth 
of July, general Wayne marched from Sandy Beach, 
and arrived at eight o'clock in the evening, within a mile 
and a half of the fort, where he made the necessary dis- 
position for the assault. After reconnoitring the situa- 
tion of the enemy, at half past eleven, he led his troops 
with unloaded muskets and fixed bayonets, and without 
firing a single gun, completely carried the fort, and 
made the garrison, amounting to five hundred and forty- 
three, (the rest being killed,) prisoners. In the attack, 
while at the head of Febiger's regiment, general Wayne 
receiA ed a wound in the head with a musket-ball, which, 
in the heat of the conflict, supposing mortal, and anxious 
to expire in the lap of glory, he called to his aids to 
carry him forward, and let him die in the fort. The re- 
sistance, on the part of the garrison, was very spirited. 
Out of the forlorn hope of twenty men, commanded by 



WAYNE. 397 

lieutenant Gibbon, whose business it was to remove the 
abattis, seventeen were killed. For the brave, prudent, 
and soldier-like conduct displayed in this achievement, 
the congress presented general Wayne a gold medal 
emblematic of the action. 

Immediately after the surrender of Stony Point, gene- 
ral Wayne transmitted to the commander in chief, the 
following laconic letter : 

, ' ''Stony Point, July, \6, \77 9. 

'' 2 o'clock, A. M. 

" Dear General — The fort and garrison, with colonel 
Johnson, are ours ; our officers and men behaved like 
men determined to be free. 

" Yours most sincerely, 

" Anthony Wayne. 
"Gen. Washington." 

In the campaign of 1781, in which lord Cornwaliis 
and a British army were obliged to surrender prisoners 
of war, he bore a conspicuous part. His presence of 
mind never failed him in the most critical situations. 
Of this he gave an eminent example on the James river. 
Having been deceived, by some false information, into a 
belief that the British army had passed the river, leaving 
but the rear guard behind, he hastened to attack the lat- 
ter before it should also have effected its passage ; but on 
pushing through a morass and wood, instead of the rear 
guard, he found the whole British army drawn up close 
to him. His situation did not admit of a moment's de- 
liberation. Conceiving the boldest to be the safest mea- 
sure, he immediately led his small detachment, not 
exceeding eight hundred men, to the charge, and after 
a short, but very smart and close firing, in which he 
lost one hundred and eighteen of his men, he succeeded 
in bringing off the rest under cover of the wood. Lord 
Cornwaliis, suspecting the attack to be a feint, in order 
to draw him into an ambuscade, would not permit his 
troops to pursue. 

The enemy having made a considerable head in 
Georgia, Wayne was despatched by general Washing- 
ton to take command of the forces in that state, and, 
after some sanguinary engagements, succeeded in esta- 
2 L 



398 WAYNE* 

blishin^ security and order. For his services in that 
state, the legislature presented him with a valuable farm. 

On the peace, which followed shortly after, he re- 
tired to private life; but in 1789, we find him a member 
of the Pennsylvania convention, and one of those in 
favour of the present federal constitution of the United 
States. 

In the year 1792, he was appointed to succeed gene- 
ral St. Clair, who had resigned the command of the 
army engaged against the Indians, on our western fron- 
tier. Wayne formed an encampment at Pittsburgh, and 
such exemplary discipline was introduced among the 
new troops, that, on their advance into the Indian coun- 
try, they appeared like veterans. 

The Indians had collected in great numbers, and it 
was necessary not only to rout them, but to occupy their 
country by a chain of posts, that should, for the future, 
check their predatory incursions. Pursuing this regu- 
lar and systematic mode of advance, the autumn of 1793 
found general Wayne with his army, at a post in the 
wilderness, called Greensville, about six miles in advance 
of fort Jefferson, where he determined to encamp for the 
winter, in order to make the necessary arrangements 
for opening the campaign to effect early in the following 
spring. After fortifying his camp, he took possession 
of the ground on which the Americans had been defeat- 
ed in 1791, which he fortified also, and called the work 
fort Recovery. Here he piously collected, and, Avith 
the honours of war, interred the bones of the unfortunate, 
although gallant victims of the fourth of November, 
1791. This situation of the army, menacing the Indian 
villages, effectually prevented any attack on the white 
settlements. The impossibility of procuring the neces- 
sary supplies prevented the march of the troops till the 
summer. On the eighth of August, the army arrived 
at the junction of the rivers Au Glaize and Miami of 
the Lakes, where they erected works for the protection 
of the stores. About thirty miles from this place, the 
British had formed a post, in the vicinity of which the 
Indians had assembled their whole force. On the fifteenth 
the army again advanced down the Miami, and on the 
eighteenth arrived at the Rapids. On the following day 



WAYNE. 399 

they erected some works for the protection of the bag- 
gage. The situation of the enemy was reconnoitred, and 
they were found posted in a thick wood, in the rear of 
the British fort. On the twentieth the army advanced 
to the attack. The Miami covered the right flank, and 
on the left were the mounted volunteers, commanded 
by general Todd. After marching about five miles, ma- 
jor Price, who led the advance, received so heavy a fire 
from the Indians, who were stationed behind trees, that 
he was compelled to fall back. The enemy had occu- 
pied a wood in front of the British fort, which, from the 
quantity of fallen timber, could not be entered by the 
horse. The legion was immediately ordered to advance 
with trailed arms, and rouse them from their covert ; 
the cavalry under captain Campbell, were directed to 
pass between the Indians and the river, while the volun- 
teers, led by general Scott, made a circuit to turn their 
flank. So rapid, however, was the charge of the legion, 
that before the rest of the army could get into action, 
the enemy were completely routed, and driven through 
the woods for more than two miles, and the troops halt- 
ed within gun-shot of the British fort. All the Indians* 
houses and corn-fields were destroyed. In this decisive 
action, the whole loss of general Wayne's army, in killed 
and wounded, amounted only to one hundred and seven 
men. As hostilities continued on the part of the In- 
dians, their whole country was laid waste, and forts 
established, which eff"ectually prevented their return. 

The success of this engagement destroyed the ene- 
mies' power; and, in the following year, general Wayne 
concluded a definitive treaty of peace with them. 

A life of peril and glory was terminated in December, 
1796. He had shielded his country from the murderous 
tomahawk of the savage. He had established her 
boundaries. He had forced her enemies to sue for her 
protection. He beheld her triumphant, rich in arts, 
and potent in arms. What more could his patriotic 
spirit wish to see. He died in a hut at Presque Isle, 
aged about fifty-one years, and was buried on the shore 
of Lake Erie. 

A few years since, his bones were taken up by his 
son, Isaac Wayne, Esq., and entombed in his native 



400 WAYNE. 

county; and by direction of the Pennsylv^mia State So- 
ciety of the Cincinnati, an elegant monument was erect- 
ed. It is to be seen within the cemetery of St. David's 
church, situated in Chester county. It is constructed 
of white marble, of the most correct symmetry and 
beauty. 



THE END. 



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